I Collect Records (To Cope With My Crippling Mental Illness) Lyrics

I was walkin' down Bosworth Street

Sayin' Hi to all the little guys I'd meet

All the things I claimed to know

Are all old and overgrown

There is nothing

Left for me

Don't say I Love Ya'

Just tell me you Love Me

Don't say I Love Ya'

Just tell me you Love Me

Don't say I Love Ya'

Just tell me you Love Me

Just tell me you Love Me

All these little careless victories

So small but so important to me

I miss what I thought I had

With my Mom and Dad

Where's my sitcom family

Don't say I Love Ya'

Just tell me you Love Me

Don't say I Love Ya'

Just tell me you Love Me

Don't say I Love Ya'

Just tell me you Love Me

Just tell me you Love Me

In the Mornin'

I miss dancing

to all the records that you would spin

You were no DJ

But sure knew how to

Keep a beat and make it skip

Not so musically inclined

But God Damn you could really sing

12 Years Old

In the Kitchen

With you teaching me how to sin

In the Mornin'

I miss dancing

to all the records that you would spin

You were no DJ

But sure knew how to

Keep a beat and make it skip

Not so musically inclined

But God Damn you could really sing

12 Years Old

In the Kitchen

With you teaching me how to sin

With you teaching me how to sin

With you teaching me how to sin

With you teaching me how to sin