I wish we could turn back time/ to the good old days,/ when the Mama sang/ us to sleep/ but now we're stressed out.
All my friends are Heathens, take it slow./ Wait for them to ask you who you know./ Please don't make any sudden moves,/ you don't know the half of the abuse.
My name is Blurryface and I/ care what you think.
Trust Issues, not to mention,/ they say they can smell your intention.