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letra de cinnamon bread - torri weidinger

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cinnamon bread, an anxious bed
i mold myself to you
no one to blame, god i fan the flames
my heart is built from second chances, or three

i’m required, obsolete
you held the tightest grip on me
i had to [?]

meet me by the baseball field
i’ll pitch you a home run
let you say the things i hate
oh, you’re your father’s son

you’ll never take it back
and i’ll never ask
it’s in your nature
and i’ve known that
i’m all alone, ’cause you’re sitting on your phone
i chose myself, and i’ll nevеr [?]

you’ll never take it back
and i’ll nеver ask
it’s in your nature
and i’ve known that
i’m all alone, ’cause you’re sitting on your phone
i chose myself, and i’ll never [?]

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