She flies to Paris, France, I come down in her childhood bed
And write the words I'll one day wish that I had never said
Now all that I became must die before the forum thread
The cursed vultures feed and spread the seeded daily bread
And I guess I found out
What it's like
I am the richest boy in every room
Mainline to the UE BOOM
They ask me
"Why don't you sing with an English accent?"
Well, I guess it's too late to change it now
In the rural American town fairground
I go 'round and I go 'round
It's a great wide gulf between intentions and what ground met me
I check my phone and make the sound
Like "Theme From Failure" performed for just you
Like the new road built out of Black Country ground
I have learned so little from all I lost in 2018
I think she's still waiting there for us, somewhere
Underneath what we built to keep the waters clean
It's a one-size-fits-all, hardcore, cyber-fetish, early-noughties zine
She sells Matcha shots to pay for printing costs and a PR team
We are recently enlightened and for some reason, it fazes thee
But it won't give up, too soft to touch
How hard could it really be?
Paroles2Chansons dispose d’un accord de licence de paroles de chansons avec la Société des Editeurs et Auteurs de Musique (SEAM)
