The Young Veins Follow
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She was acting pretty, thought she owned the city
Someone should have told her pretty ain't a job
Now she begs for money, no one calls her honey
As she bothers shoppers in the parking lot
Gets her karma with a catch
Forgets superstition by wearing in backwards
Lives under ladders and sleeps with black cats
They just stay the same way
I swear this like a sailor, love is not a favor
I find its just a concept that we live inside
If you can agree with me and Mr. Twain
In matters of opinion our rivals are insane
She was acting pretty, thought she owned the city
Someone should have told her pretty ain't a job
Now she begs for money, no one calls her honey
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