Spartak

I was leaving in the early hours of the morn, When I saw you looking back at me, With those sunken eyes of scorn. You pursed up your lips, You rose up your chin, At your discomfort at my state, I couldn’t help but grin. At the party you were talking academic matters, Don’t you know that none of that shit really matters? And none of that shit really matters. Don’t climb onto that high horse, Cause the saddle doesn’t fit ya. I’ll only cast the first stone, If I’m sure that it will hit ya. Ah, you’re no better than me. Ah, you’re no better than me. Ah, you’re no better than me. Ah, you’re no better than me. Well, you can follow your fashions, You can follow your cliques. And I feel sorry for you For feeling sorry for me. Well you tut your lips at vagrants’ tricks, But you know you do the same as them. So I’ll raise a glass, And I’ll raise it fast, To know that when your faults are on your chest, That’s when you’ll know, Your real friends. Ah, you’re no better than me. Ah, you’re no better than me. Ah, you’re no better than me. Ah, you’re no better than me. Ah, you’re no better than me. Ah, you’re no better than me. Ah, you’re no better than me. Ah, you’re no better than me.