Henry's Fuck Up - Minor Majority

Each truth, each lie

And never ending judging love

Twisted paper rose

Smell the smell of dust

From where she is alone

Of all the fuck ups that I do

I save the best ones for you

Like the suns tears

Like moon seed rubbish

Like coctail smell in bars

The number on your door

You’ve seen the key

And the last twist of the knife

Of all the fuck ups that I do

I save the best ones for you

Of all the fuck ups that I do

I save the best ones for you

For you, for you, for you, for you