Less Hipsters, More Chipsters

I'll move to L.A
With the breeze in the air
Architecture that never makes sense
I'll fly to New York
Where drugs never work
But we're dancing and drinking all night

You said 'go to London
For a week or two'
I'm leaving to find a girl
Who's not like you
I'm ready
I fixed the gel in my hair
I'm singing
You don't seem to care

UhhhhhhUhhhhhh
I'm waiting for the sun

Stop with the hipsters
Bring me more chipsters
AllStars are fine to me
I'm back in Pompei
It's not like L.A
But it's home for me
And always will be

Fuck all the djs
Their shits and their hits
They might make big money
But I love The Smiths
I'm ready
I fixed the gel in my hair
I'm leaving
You don't seem to care

UhhhhhhUhhhhhh
I'm waiting for the sun

You said you loved me
Then you let me go
Maybe someday
I'll find a way to carry on
You said you loved me
Then you let me go
Maybe someday
I'll find a place I will call home



Credits
Writer(s): Diego Leanza, Marco Brunasso
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

Link