Dreams

You're a god blassed, well dressed socialite queen
I'm a redneck, half-drunk traller park breed
when we go to parties, you don't want to be seed
with a boy, with a boy, with a boy like me
I've been hanging around whit the old silk hat
Listening to the stories that the bums spit out
while you're off in some wonderland
Looking for a parallel kind of men
I said looking for a parallel kind of men
Halloween I bought you twelve white roses
You asked to ride the haunted ferris wheel
I was scared of heights
So New York stole ya
why can't it just be real
why is it never real
In a brooken down, brooken down, brooken down van
On the side of the road where the city ends
You're a dream, you're a dream, you're a dream I hed
Dreams are not real, baby they're just that
Dreams are not real, baby they're just that
Dreams are not real, baby they're just that



Credits
Writer(s): Max Jury
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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