Put the money in the bag, pick up your clothes
Find your shoes, and get your story straight on the drive home
If you can find home
And what a precious thing to do, you try to feel
You try to prove that you can make a choice if you have to
And what do you
You Get Used To It. You Get Used To It
But baby I'm through with it
I can't take the hit. I can't handle it. I don't want that shit
You Get Used To It. You Get Used To It
Rarely slow and never painless
Blown out angel city nights, unconscious days
The music plays. We try to make it last, but it flies by
Every time we die, I bleed a little
You've got your tight little red dress, tequila eyes
We're sharing lies, and meeting at our hips by the back bar
Take me to your car
You Get Used To It. You Get Used To It
But baby I'm through with it. I can't take the hit
I can't handle it. I don't want that shit
You get...
Fascinated by the pain
You're born to bleed
You're built to bruise
You're always at your best when you use me
When you diffuse me
Bore myself to death again
Twice in the heart
Once in the head
You only show me how to abuse you
It's just what you do
You Get Used To It. You Get Used To It
But I can tell that you're through with it
You can't take the hit. You can't handle it
You don't want that shit
You Get Used To It. Maybe you'll Get Used To It
Rarely slow, and never painless