Look at her, running through red Coulda been something but did nothing instead Emptied her pockets onto the floor Said that's what I'm made of, not much more Lines on the table took what she had Morning comes early, can't take it back Too many people, not saying much Talking all evening till they run out of luck I know I'm not perfect, I'm always to blame I wonder if I'll ever stop playing that game I tried to leave you, I tried to change But I have to admit it I like things the same Running, running through red Running, can't get ahead