Did the Cubs Just Win the World Series?

I let my hair down, again
I feel relaxed, my hands grip less in air that's colder

Basing off of things I can't afford
I can feel the way a bank account is poorly painted red right by a store

You let your face fall, again
You feel my hands across your skin as you roll over.

I slept it off
You can't understand control
Overconfidence diluted
I'm not upset anymore
I just feel sore



Credits
Writer(s): Andrew Schueneman
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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