Lyrics Apparatchik - For The Mathematics

Apparatchik

House always wins
So don’t cry, cry
Down like water
Down like sand
Got to try, ‘cause I
I am an old dog
This is a new trick
I won’t look down, down
Apparatchik
These are the punches that we roll with
This is the shit
When it’s so much easier to stomach it
I’m downwind of you
Black berets and blue jeans
A wry smile, a smile
From the glue
For your tip tape
I get high, high
All these cars
Have lost their soul
In the race for the prize, compromise
Apparatchik
These are the punches that we roll with
This is the shit
When it’s so much easier to stomach it
And I’m downwind of you
‘Cause you give good odour
And you raise my game
From this high rise hoping
You steal my gains
Stuck together with traffic jams
Sweaty palms
Apparatchik
These are the punches that we roll with
This is the shit
When it’s so much easier to stomach it
I’m downwind of you
Laugh now but one day we’ll be in charge
Laugh now but one day we’ll be in charge
Laugh now but one day we’ll be in charge