More songs by Jay Fung
Description
A love grenade ticks down to a bouncy beat, and on its shards are the gloss of teenage dreams: "James Dean," a shop window, a trophy with a bow. Control wrapped in tenderness, emojis instead of handcuffs, calls like fireworks outside the entrance. This whole red flag parade is shining so brightly that it's both funny and painful at the same time. But the haze lifts: my vision sharpens, and the image comes into focus. "I see right thru you" sounds like a mantra of liberation - not a scandal, but a firm walk out the door. And even if my heart is bruised, it chooses the open air, not a shop window.
Lyrics and translation
Original
I know you know this love bomb keeps on ticking.
Our time is up, we're going down, we're sinking.
So what's up with those sad eyes looking like that?
Hoping I'll melt and I'll take you right back. Oh, there's no chance, and that's a fact.
When you hold me, you're squeezing me tight like you own me.
Dressing me up like a James Dean from your teenage dreams. Oh, I.
Like a trophy, showing me off like your pony.
I see your game so clearly. I'm a fool for that. Oh, I.
See through ya.
I, I, I see through ya. I, I, I see through ya.
See through ya.
I, I, I see through ya. Oh, oh, oh.
Your wandering eyes when handy Jack comes over.
You flirt so hard, but he's your homegirl's new lover.
And can't you see that I'm standing next to you?
You can't see how you look when you drool all over him.
Oh boy, he ain't got a clue, no. When you hold me, you're squeezing me tight like you own me.
Dressing me up like a James Dean from your teenage dreams. Teenage dreams. Oh, I.
Like a trophy, showing me off like your pony.
I see your game so clearly. I'm a fool for that. Oh, I.
Oh, oh, my heart is bruising and I'm hurting, yeah.
Oh, oh, and I've had enough of you.
Yeah. Done with all your tricky ways. I've gotta walk away.
I know I deserve so much more.
When you hold me.
Oh, I.
When you hold me, you're squeezing me tight like you own me.
Dressing me up like a James Dean from your teenage dreams. From your teenage dreams.
Oh, I. Acting psycho, blow up my phone like a pyro. Like a pyro.
I see the smoke from a mile. There's no looking back 'cause I see through ya.
See through ya, oh.
I, I, I see through ya.
I, I, I see through ya. See through ya. I, I, I see through ya.
Oh, I. I see right through ya. Oh.