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It was quite early one morning
Hit me without warning
I went to hear the general speak
I was standing for the anthem
Banners all around him
Confetti made it hard to see

Put my footsteps on the pavement
Starved for entertainment
Four seasons of revolving doors
So sick of being honest
I'll die like Dylan Thomas
A seizure on the barroom floor

I’m getting greedy with this private hell
I'll go it alone, but that's just as well

These cats are scared and feral
The flag pins on their lapels
The truth is anybody’s guess
These talking heads are saying
The king is only playing
A game of four dimensional chess

There's flowers in the rubble
The weeds are gonna tumble
I'm lucid, but I still can't think
I'm strapped into a corset
Climbed into your Corvette
I'm thirsty for another drink

If it's advertised, we'll try it
And buy some peace and quiet
And shut up at the silent retreat
They say you’ve gotta fake it
At least until you make it
That ghost is just a kid in a sheet

I’m getting used to these dizzy spells
I'm taking a shower at the Bates Motel
I’m getting greedy with this private hell
I'll go it alone, but that's just as well

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Composição: Conor Oberst / Pheobe Bridgers. Essa informação está errada? Nos avise.
Enviada por Arthur e traduzida por Rafael. Revisões por 2 pessoas . Viu algum erro? Envie uma revisão.


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