AWFuLLy DoNe

Call me through your cellular, talking regular or end belly up, that's a failure

On all accounts and God is mailing ya, yeah

My conscience cleared up, no Pontious Pilate

More like Samson at the Coliseum,

Take my strength away and I'm still here

I made through some nausea Still a million times I wish I called ya

But I know in the end you really my Delilah

Sorry for the voicemails I left

when I shouldn't

have called ya I just felt like you, fuckin' on my neighbor