(no subject)

[cliche_you_say]

You've got your lights turned so they can see you
The very best of what you've got to offer
Tell them what your hands were made for
Tell them who your mouth was made for
You've got your profits and your mathematicians
The vocal fuel of a generation
Tell me what my hands were made for
Tell me who my mouth was made for
And please don't be mad at me
You'll get what you ask for
Come on come on come on
So very close to what you had expected
It makes it hard to keep my head up level
Tell me I'm what your hands were made for
Tell me I'm who your mouth was made for
And if you come down on me
Well you'll get what you ask for
Come on come on come on
I, I want to get myself back
High I want to get myself back
All of the things
That you promised me that you'd be
Now your hands are tired
And all of the things
That you promised me that you'd need
Now my hands are tired
Come on come on come on