Mika, the boy who knew too much.
Out next week.
Pages to tell,
he's got a face to make you fall on your knees.
He's got money and a bank to thank,
and I guess you could think he's living at ease.
Like lovers on the open shore,
what's the matter when you're sitting there with so much more?
What's the matter while you're wondering what the hell to be?
Are you wishing you were a rookie like me?
Blame it on the girls who know what they do.
Blame it on the boys who keep living on you.
Blame it on your mother for the things she said.
Blame it on your father, but you know he's dead.
Blame it on the girls.
Blame it on the boys.
Blame it on the girls.
Blame it on the boys.
Life could be simple,
but you never fail to complicate it every single time.
You could have chosen that life,
the perfect little life,
but you blow it on a bottle of wine.
Like a baby or a stubborn child,
what's the matter?
I was looking for an axe to grind.
What's the matter while you're wondering what the hell to do?
Are you wishing we were lucky like you?
Blame it on the girls who know what they do.
Blame it on the boys who keep living on you.
Blame it on your mother for the things she said.
Blame it on your father, but you know he's dead.
Blame it on the girls.
Blame it on the boys.
Mika, the boy who knew too much.
Outneck whoop.
He's got looks that books take pages to tell.
He's got a face to make you fall on your knees.
He's got money in the bank to thank,
and I guess you could think he's living at ease.
Blame it on the girls who know what they do.
Blame it on the boys who keep living on you.
Blame it on your mother for everything she said.
Blame it on your father, but you know he's dead.
Blame it on the girls.
Blame it on the boys.
Blame it on the girls.
Blame it on the boys.
Girls,
blame it on the boys