Perfect Score

Tonight I'm going to make Some predictable mistakes But if you haven't got regrets You haven't started yet You point your finger so much You wore it down to the bone It's a wonder you can still type that shit on your phone Everyone's a dupe Yeah, but somehow you're not Hold onto that feeling 'Cause you don't know what you've got 'til it's gone I'm genuinely sorry For all the stupid things I've done All the things I used to say More than half of them were wrong I'm trying to find a little forgiveness It's the only thing left going Because there's not such thing as pure No one has a perfect score I'm jealous of your sense Of wounded innocence And I'm bored of arguments With fraudulent intent (I know what you really meant) History is not a package holiday Where if something isn't perfect then you get to complain The older I get the more I realise that I don't know much of anything That's why I'm trying to hold my tongue I'm genuinely sorry For all the stupid things I've done All those things I used to say More than half of them were wrong I'm trying to find a little forgiveness It's the only thing left going Because there's not such thing as pure No one has a perfect score (No one has a perfect score) There's a skeleton behind your door No one has a perfect score No perfect score