Lyrics: Patrick Wimberly/Towa Bird/Annie Schindel
Music: Patrick Wimberly/Towa Bird/Annie Schindel
I miss calloused fingers in the summer time
I miss campfires and pointing out the satellites
Your place or mine?
'05 was paradise
Sweet sixteen, hickeys, made it past second base
Push-ups, crop top, then I don't touch the birthday cake
Straighten my hair
And pray to God I'm the same
Now I flinch at the sound of my voice
All I desired, my ego destroyed
When the green in my eyes turns to grey, not so simple
Anymore, like before
I got bigger, and so did my name, not so little
Now that I'm in the thick of it
Devoted crowd, it's funny how
Clearly I'm more than enough for the world
But never Victoria
I miss butterflies, the feeling of a drunken kiss
I miss open mics and living off of twenty quid
Twelve-to-twelve shift
I'll wonder if this is it
Does anybody love me or not?
Does anybody want what I've got?
Sucker for fame, I got a taste
They're singing my praises
But the more that they say it
The more I won't measure up
When the green in my eyes turns to grey, not so simple
Anymore, like before
I got bigger, and so did my name, not so little
Now that I'm in the thick of it
Devoted crowd, it's funny how
Clearly I'm more than enough for the world
But never Victoria
There's a world, where she sits on a barstool, sipping Chardonnay
Victoria stays, bends, and breaks for a man like an old clichΓ©
But I saw her ghost, set her free
She's taking one for the team
I let her go, but she's keep on following me
When the green in my eyes turns to grey, not so simple
Anymore, like before
I got bigger, and so did my name, not so little
Now that I'm in the thick of it
Devoted crowd, it's funny how
Clearly I'm more than enough for the world, even my girl
And I'll find my worth
But never Victoria