The Tortured Poets Department
[00:08.78] You left your typewriter at my apartment
[00:13.09] Straight from the tortured poets department
[00:17.59] I think some things I never say
[00:22.09] Like, who uses typewriters anyway?
[00:26.34] But you're in self-sabotage mode
[00:28.59] Throwin' spikes down on the road
[00:30.59] But I've seen this episode and still loved the show
[00:34.34] Who else decodes you?
[00:38.34] And who's gonna hold you like me?
[00:47.34] And who's gonna know you if not me?
[00:54.59] I laughed in your face and said
[00:56.63] You're not Dylan Thomas, I'm not Patti Smith
[01:00.62] This ain't the Chelsea Hotel, we're modern idiots
[01:04.88] And who's gonna hold you like me?
[01:12.88] Nobody, no-fucking-body, nobody
[01:27.38] You smoked then ate seven bars of chocolate
[01:31.62] We declared Charlie Puth should be a bigger artist
[01:35.91] I scratch your head, you fall asleep
[01:40.65] Like a tattooed Golden Retriever
[01:44.41] But you awaken with dread, pounding nails in your head
[01:48.90] But I've read this one where you come undone
[01:52.90] I chose this cyclone with you
[01:56.66] And who's gonna hold you like me? (Who's gonna hold you, who's gonna hold you?)
[02:05.91] And who's gonna know you like me? (Who's gonna know you?)
[02:12.49] I laughed in your face and said
[02:15.04] You're not Dylan Thomas, I'm not Patti Smith
[02:19.04] This ain't the Chelsea Hotel, we're modern idiots
[02:23.04] And who's gonna hold you like me?
[02:30.54] No-fucking-body, nobody (who's gonna hold you, who's gonna hold you?)
[02:38.59] (Who's gonna hold you, gonna know you, won't control you?) Nobody
[02:44.68] Sometimes I wonder if you're gonna screw this up with me
[02:49.72] But you told Lucy you'd kill yourself if I ever leave
[02:53.97] And I had said that to Jack about you so I felt seen
[02:58.47] Everyone we know understands why it's meant to be
[03:02.51] 'Cause we're crazy
[03:10.76] So tell me, who else is gonna know me?
[03:19.16] At dinner, you take my ring off my middle finger
[03:23.18] And put it on the one people put wedding rings on
[03:27.72] And that's the closest I've come to my heart exploding
[03:32.72] Who's gonna hold you? (Who?) Me
[03:41.47] Who's gonna know you? (Who?) Me
[03:50.47] And you're not Dylan Thomas, I'm not Patti Smith
[03:54.72] This ain't the Chelsea Hotel, we're two idiots
[03:58.97] Who's gonna hold you?
[04:20.72] You left your typewriter at my apartment
[04:25.27] Straight from the tortured poets department
[04:29.59] Who else decodes you? (Who? Who?)
