Poison MD113.1

Wear something out, you'll agree, I'm no poison When, when it comes, when it comes Like the thorn in mud, cat in a tree, the miles between us The look of something good, in your smile My [?] like my [?] and it's never it I know I must be sad or I never miss me with those sounds that I've written I have written While I'm in my spot, 'cause I have got somewhere to hold it all inside You're alright, you're alright The [?] away to some new, and I don't notice I'm good, on my way much too often