| Poor me, pour me a shot of patron
|
| Cigarillo or bordello I just gotta be blown
|
| In a silicone zone where titties are grown
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| And sessions in the recession where fifties are thrown
|
| Rose petals, pedaled within cities of stone
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| Reefer and liquor dance, my chemical romance
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| My pitiful cold hands
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| That ache to be warm
|
| Like a tux with gold cuffs that waits to be worn
|
| Nowadays
|
| Loves in the haze of a flashback
|
| Those that invest deeply need be gettin' they cash back
|
| Being in lust with love, feels so dreamy
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| Till it’s shattered in beautiful pieces scattered beneath me
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| I still chase it, you gotta believe me
|
| I just don’t think it’s as instant as an instance on tv
|
| We try to close the distance but persistence ain’t easy
|
| There’s a ribbon in the sky if you listen to Stevie
|
| Problem is, my arms can’t reach that far
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| Or stretch that high, is it best I fly
|
| With the wings of a goose, mixed with red bull
|
| And a night cap slapped on to keep my head cool
|
| Awaken in a state of confusion
|
| Dressing quickly to get back to my city
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| Fuckin' delusion
|
| Where I live
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| Where I stay
|
| Where I sleep
|
| Where I lay
|
| I’ve seen all the things that pass me by
|
| Oh why can’t it be real?
|
| I cling to my dreams as I grab the sky
|
| Oh why can’t it be real? |