I Smell Bud

I smell bud in the hallway
I can't be myself when you are away
It's okay, we'll do it your way
If I can sleep here I can sleep anywhere

New York slums have pulled me into the flux
The kids that smoke me up, they're all actors for a buck
They don't give a fuck
And I'm rushing down the staircase
To the lobby of the George Washington Hotel, this is my hell
East Third Avenue, what's it to you?

I wish that I was skinny, then I wouldn't need to be cool
And maybe you would need me more than I need you
I wish that I was sickly skinny, 'cause— (I slipped on the black ice)
(Your black eyes, your sharp teeth, you sank deep)
(You know I can't meet you, you're not real here)
(I see things no one sees)
(I pictured draining the blood from your heart)



Credits
Writer(s): Rivka Ravede, Zachary Stephen Schwartz, Patrick James Conaboy
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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