Lyrics
I was raised in a tragedy by slaves
where kids are drug addicts or
they are bored and lazy still
I return to my home town and
it's just like going to a funeral
and all of them are dying in love
with paradise idle conversation makes
them wise did you hear the one about
Greg a rare talent he was unsung until
the blow came no one really dies they
just get fired our legacy to retire
young and all of them are drowning the
waves of apathy trust fund junkies slamming
the debris it's a dream identify now and then
I miss her her masochistic hands fulfilling
empty plans and all of us
our lying on golden shores of greed
we're dead by thirty dead by thirty
dead in daydream
About
Artist Bad Astronaut
Added 3 months ago
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