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louis logic - they don't make 'em like they used to lyrics
polished to a high shine, straight outta the shrink wrap
thin cracks riddled the gl-ss on our picture perfect past now that i think back
was it in craftsmanship? was there something lacking in
the packaging that let a draft get in and stale our little prim pact?
perhaps it was a grim fact of manufacture ways of past
nothing’s ever made to last. what a clever way to make some cash!
everyone’s afraid to ask how many more days you have
let’s just say it’s much too late to act. the expiration date elapsed
when you’re invested in someone you mess with
you never expect that you’ll take a bath
here’s a funny little saying for that…
what doesn’t k!ll you makes you laugh
why would we make such a trade?
(some things don’t change. love seems so strange.)
principle over p-ssion, maybe i’m just old fashioned
(those same old games. smoke from old flames.)
you can always build it cheaper right? the truth is costly
so we turned a date into a heated night and inserted a into your slot b
that was our first mistake, as if it wasn’t worth the wait
to find the right time or the perfect place to set up our rehearsal sp-ce
such an uncertain shape to incur the weight of our trust it was sure to break
a few vertebrae, a deserving fate. it’s nothing any words would change
we were built to work this way, doomed from the start, two little hearts
fused with a spark, cursed to make it last just until the glue comes apart
to think it seemed crude in the bars, long before computers would chart
who you should partner up with. that’s when falling in love was still viewed as an art
why would we make such a trade?
(some things don’t change. love seems so strange.)
principle over p-ssion, maybe i’m just old fashioned
(those same old games. smoke from old flames.)
how could we take such a change?
(some things don’t change. love seems so strange.)
the way that love’s being rationed, maybe i’m just old fashioned
(those same old games. smoke from old flames.)
this is big business. it’s on every kid’s wishlist
every mr. catches his mrs., every nancy gets her sid vicious
you let the very fabric of your merry marriage stretch to its limits
and get up on your best leg with a nest egg then end up in debt when it’s finished
you can forget all the gimmicks… quicker, thinner, with a s-xier image
in the end, whether commitment measures the distance all depends on what’s in it
we’re all synthetic provisional lovers wrapped and stuffed in styrofoam
my pop cemented his love for my mother and scratched and cut their lives in stone
and i should have known, i wasn’t raised inside the new school
but let’s just admit it, they don’t make ’em like they used to
remember when a truthful togetherness was crucial?
now everyone is too cool and they don’t make ’em like they used to
my friend pool is a who’s who, menu of what fools do
to ruin a beautifully brewed truce, they don’t make ’em like they used to
it’s sad but it’s too true, love is far between and too few
when it comes to hearts it seems that they don’t make ’em like they used to
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