Take my money, I don't work that hard I fall asleep in the beating heart Of a dying breed peddling some lost art Watch it fade, watch it fall apart
You let me go on and on In the tall grass of a con The prestige of some evil spawn Well, I guess that's yours to settle on
But there ain't nothing to it, babe We can roll around in the disarray In the final act of the good old days Ooh
What you're holding so close calls you by name What you thought was enough now seems insane
If we stand out in some wild city street Dodging every car, every thief, and disease Catching tiny crumbs in the hеartless breeze Say we'rе tough as nails, say we're both naive
You let me fill every room Wax poetic and presume Your principles ripen into a fragile tomb Watch it split in two What you do and you say sustain harmony What you thought was enough Well, it works for me
There ain't nothing to it, babe We can roll around in the disarray In the final act of the good old days In the final act of the good old days Ooh Good old days Ooh Good old days Ooh Good old days Ooh Good old
Compositor: Kathryn Crutchfield (Waxahatchee) (BMI)Editor: Third Side Music Inc (SOCAN)ECAD verificado obra #46304218 em 30/Set/2024