Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Body of Work, artist - B. Dolan. Album song Fallen House Sunken City, in the genre Рэп и хип-хопDate of issue: 13.05.2013
Record label: Strange Famous
Song language: English
Body of Work |
| Her story is getting old |
| In a night with no company |
| Stood up by the door |
| So uncomfortably |
| Gnawing at her thumb til it bleeds |
| She’s in the way |
| Bent out of shape |
| The money makes her wait |
| The waitress looks her way and makes a face |
| Staring at the empty plate |
| Drift away… |
| Shifty and agitated |
| Frustration and despair |
| Silent phone and lonely rage |
| Why isn’t he here |
| We had a date… |
| For chrissake… |
| The corner’s colder than the tomb |
| The city air is empty |
| I live in god’s country |
| I let the devil tempt me |
| Drowing in the wishing well |
| Surrounded in this living hell |
| These people think they’re better than me |
| But I’ve got bellies to feed |
| That dress is too expensive |
| And that movie’s been made |
| I do for you |
| You do for me |
| It’s a mutual exchange |
| It fills a desperate need |
| 3 hours late he finally texted me |
| Lost his nerve, maybe next week |
| Another deadbeat |
| Another drop of poison on my tongue |
| Another cloud of smoke filling my lungs |
| Rough kisses smudge the paint on my lips |
| Hungry stomachs and tight fists |
| Broken bones and bruised nerves |
| Sounding the alert |
| In a body of work |
| In a body of work |
| They promise her to the dirt |
| In her body |
| The city is a blister |
| Splitting open wide |
| The rotted shell of an insect |
| Laid out on its side |
| A little death |
| The hot white spotlight |
| Paints the darkness |
| With our silhouttes |
| I haven’t met the numbers in my head |
| And can’t go home yet |
| Instead I’m slouched against a post on a fence |
| Posing for them that pose a threat and hold me by the neck |
| Approaching next the slack jaws and fat rolls |
| Who get what they ask for |
| The dashboard glows |
| I tug at my clothes |
| Try to act casual |
| Tell them what it costs to rob me |
| They look me up and down and then we |
| Bargain over parts of my |
| Body and mind… seperate |
| The hour is getting late |
| The lost time |
| Dividing dollar signs before my eyes |
| I should’ve sized them up better |
| But it’s a long drive at the end of an off-night |
| And they seemed alright |
| I never ask too many questions |
| Get in at the intersection to slip from the city’s memory |
| And what do you get… |
| Another drop of poison on my tongue |
| Another cloud of smoke filling my lungs |
| Rough kisses smudge the paint on my lips |
| Hungry stomachs and tight fists |
| Broken bones and bruised nerves |
| Sounding the alert |
| In a body of work |
| In a body of work |
| They promise her to the dirt |
| In her body |