A History Of Reasons

I’m not the kind of guy to give it up A history of reasons won’t make me stop Or the colour of your skin Or the colour of my eyes when you’re looking at him I would do it again, I’d do it again, I’d do it again When it’s you and I I’m unpacking and you’re leaving on another red-eye Goodbye Time never seems to wait In line when everything’s at stake But I won’t have the final say They’ll be rollin’ in their graves watchin’ your mistakes from the wake I’m not the kind of guy to put up a front But touch what isn’t yours and I’ll f*ck you up You’re a sinner or saint And nothing in between will cover the stains I would do it again, I’d do it again, I’d do it again When it’s fight or die But you’re dying as you’re fighting cause you’re just a fist shy I would do it again, I’d do it again, I’d do it again When it’s you and I I’m unpacking and you’re leaving on another red-eye Goodbye Time never seems to wait In line when everything’s at stake But I won’t have the final say They’ll be rollin’ in their graves watchin’ your mistakes from the wake I was a foster child in Southern England I was a merchant in India Powerful, impatient I was a little girl in dresses Innocent, deceptive It won’t leave me be Oh, you can run You can run You can run (They’ll be rollin’ in their graves watchin’ your mistakes)