Every buster in Rome is staring at me
I wanna stop hurting their ears but
I’m afraid of what silence could bring

I got a head full of melodies
I got sounds coming out of my mouth
But none of these melodies I can call mine
And I can’t sing aloud

And I would do most anything
To write something that sounds like it’s mine
But I just keep on singing
The melodies I have in my mind

And I-I’m starting to think I’d better
Put my piano down
In some heated place
And forget…

And it does hurt me
Sure you don’t wanna feel like I feel
Do you wanna know, know, how much it hurts me
Cause it feels so unreal

And it does hurt me
Sure you don’t wanna feel like I feel
Do you wanna know, know, how much it hurts me
And I hate days like these cause they
Make me feel like I can’t write a thing

And I would do most anything
To write something that sounds like it’s mine
But I just keep on crying and laughing
I think I’m just losing my mind

And I-I’m starting to think I’d better
Put my piano down
In some heated place
And forget…

I know good song is heaven sent
I write it down and my passion spent
But my heart’s falls apart
And piano’s rent

I see my future in a tent…
And it sounds like this
And it sounds like that
Oh, it sounds like this
And it sounds like that
And it sounds like this
And it sounds like that
Oh, it sounds like this
And it sounds like that

And it sound like it’s
Not mine at all…
And it sounds like this
And it sounds like that

And I sound like Regina Spektor at times
But it sure doesn’t sound like it is mine…

And if you feel like that
Didn’t you want to hide away
Not that I feel the same way
Not that I feel the same way too


Lyrics submitted by americanatropicana

Jack the Ripoff song meanings
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1 Comment

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  • +1
    General Comment

    I haven't listened to this song in a while, but I think it says "in the room," not "in Rome," and "in some heated place" should be "in some hidden place."

    carbonated_pearson December 06, 2008   Link

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