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Taylor Swift - The Tortured Poets Department ( All Lyrics )

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Créé par Sepiso
Évaluation:
Dernière actualisation : 19 avril 2024
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Première soumission19 avril 2024
Nombre de tentatives3
Score moyen73,0%
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Answer
You
left
your
typewriter
at
my
apartment
Straight
from
the
Tortured
Poets
Department
I
think
some
things
I
never
say
Like
"Who
uses
typewriters
anyway?"
But
You're
in
self-sabotage
mode
Throwing
spikes
down
on
the
road
But
I've
seen
this
episode
and
still
love
the
show
Who
else
decodes
you?
And
who's
gonna
(hold
you)
like
me?
And
who's
gonna
(know
you)
if
not
me?
I
laughed
in
your
face
Answer
and
said,
"You're
not
Dylan
Thomas,
I'm
not
Patti
Smith
"This
ain't
the
Chelsea
Hotel,
we're
modern
idiots"
And
who's
gonna
(hold
you)
like
me?
No,
nobody
No
fucking
body
Nobody
You
smoked
then
ate
seven
bars
of
chocolate
We
declared
Charlie
Puth
should
be
a
bigger
artist
I
scratch
your
head,
you
fall
asleep
like
a
tattooed
golden
retriever
But
you
awaken
with
dread,
pounding
nails
in
your
head
Answer
But
I've
this
one
where
you
come
undone
I
chose
this
cyclone
with
you
And
who's
gonna
(hold
you)
like
me?
(Who's
gonna
hold
you?
Who's
gonna
hold
you?)
And
who's
gonna
(know
you)
like
me?
(Who's
gonna
hold
you?)
I
laughed
in
your
face
and
said,
"You're
not
Dylan
Thomas
I'm
not
Patti
Smith
"This
ain't
the
Chelsea
Hotel,
we're
modern
idiots"
And
who's
gonna
(hold
you)
like
me?
Answer
(Who's
gonna
hold
you?
Who's
gonna
hold
you?)
No
fucking
body
(who's
gonna
hold
you?
Who's
gonna
hold
you?)
Nobody
(who's
gonna
hold
you?
Gonna
know
you?
Gonna
troll
you?)
Nobody
Sometimes
I
wonder
if
you're
gonna
screw
this
up
with
me
But
you
told
Lucy
you'd
kill
yourself
if
I
ever
leave
And
I
had
said
that
to
Jack
about
you
so
I
felt
seen
Everyone
we
know
understands
Answer
why
it's
meant
to
be
Because
we're
crazy
So
tell
me
who
else
is
gonna
(love
me?)
At
dinner,
you
take
my
ring
off
my
middle
finger
and
put
it
on
the
one
People
put
wedding
rings
on
And
that's
the
closest
I've
come
to
my
heart
exploding
Who's
gonna
hold
you?
(Who?)
Me
Who's
gonna
know
you?
(Who?)
Me
And
you're
not
Dylan
Thomas,
I'm
not
Patti
Smith
Answer
This
ain't
the
Chelsea
Hotel,
we're
two
idiots
Who's
gonna
hold
you?
Who's
gonna
hold
you?
Who's
gonna
hold
you?
Who's
gonna
hold
you?
Who's
gonna
hold
you?
Who's
gonna
hold
you?
Who's
gonna
hold
you?
Who's
gonna
hold
you?
Gonna
know
you?
Gonna
troll
you?
You
left
your
typewriter
at
my
apartment
Straight
from
the
tortured
poets
department
Who
else
decodes
you?
Who,
ooh?
Who,
ooh?
Who,
ooh?
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