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 fuck 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)