Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song ***SKA, artist - Jeff Rosenstock. Date of issue: 19.04.2021
Song language: English
***SKA |
| Damn, your mom has secretly been renting out your home |
| I used the shower sponge when you went to Spain alone |
| She told us it’s been rough and you deserved a break |
| And marrying that guy, obviously was a mistake |
| You had a couple kids but now he’s always gone |
| And you’re stuck sweeping hair at your mommy’s hair salon |
| The flat you have upstairs, tucked in the suburbs safe |
| Is running low on bread and other amenities |
| 'Cause your mom’s secretly renting your place |
| Damn, your elevator looked in hella disrepair |
| But I’m not fucking with a dozen flights of stairs |
| I tenderized my legs somewhere in Germany |
| Trying to convince the bored to pay attention to me |
| The absinthe that we drank? |
| I’m not sure it was real |
| Massage place in the building? |
| We know what’s the fucking deal |
| 'Cause fratboys wait outside, pretending they’re not there |
| Avert their glassy eyes, but I don’t really care |
| I don’t wanna lay in bed and stare at the ceiling |
| While chasing the fleeting |
| There’s too much in my head to sleep |
| And I did the thing that movie said |
| «Foot on the floor beside the bed» |
| Still too much in my head to sleep |
| Too much in my head to sleep |
| Too much in my head to sleep tonight |
| Get fucked up, bruise your stupid bones again |
| Get, get fucked up, lose your telephone again |
| Get, get fucked up, bother all your friends again |
| Get, get fucked up, shame your broken heart again |
| I really gotta leave, but I just wanna stay |
| I’m only a real person for a quarter-dozen days |
| Until I gotta scram, until I go away |
| And turn into a person that I wouldn’t wanna meet |
| Cultivating mold on my laundry |
| And becoming so afraid I’m honestly |
| Placing bets on a chemical crapshoot with my brain |
| Cleaning for the dealer so I’ll black out on the plane |
| Stumbling in the dark and living vicariously |
| Through a photo album in a stranger’s BNB |