People think I'm such a mess
It doesn't make any sense
'Cause I don't see
That me
I am just a fragment
Of my imagination
And what I see
Is what I see
I've got this thing with
God and cigarettes
Making promises, making promises
Making promises
People make me think of me
As something I don't wanna be
But I can't
I can't be that
Then they say I feel too much
You're like a wine you shouldn't touch
But I don't see
The problem
I've got this thing with
God and cigarettes
Making promises
Making promises
I don't believe those
Bunch of broken hearts
Give it up, give it up
Making promises, making promises
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