You say that I suck and I'm lousy. You say I can't writ. You've always told me how to be. Now I'm sick of a it. And sorry doesn't make it okay. But I'm the one that paid your way. Don't preach. You're drillin' a hole in my ceiling. Too bad it won't rain. You're slippin' without any feeling. So don't you complain. Sorry doesn't make it okay. But I'm the one that paid your way. Sorry doesn't make it okay. But I'm the one that paid your way. Don't preach. I can't believe what you said. How you live how you love how you laugh. You took my money away. Made me sleep on the floor that I've had. But I don't care anyway. Cause I laugh when you cry. Do you think you would die if I said. Don't preach. Sorry doesn't make it okay. But I'm the one that paid your way. Sorry doesn't make it okay. But I'm the one that paid your way. The house bed. The cars and the front the door. And how's it feel when all of it's paid for. It's already paid for. It's already paid for. It's already paid for. It's already paid for. Everybody's paid for. Everybody's paid for. Everybody's paid for. Crédito: !§@ðØ®ª