San Pico
Hot around my collar get AC on
Rolling down a window never
Hot around my collar get AC on
Rolling down a window never took this long
Feeling sore in C2 means pain that's gonna be 3D
Culture shock to me too, eyes jumping like ADD
I want to tell you, if my tongue won't melt off
If my shoes don't burn off, if that smile stays on
I'm a stones throw from where you left me last season
Look, it's still me, see, it's old me, I got the same skin, same teeth
I shoulda' double knotted cause I'm double tripping over you
Had to do a triple take, triple check you weren't dead
Haven't seen you since my very early days, why'd you wait till now to resurrect
Sunday was a metaphor, you were forever Sundays ago
This Sunday's up to one-oh-oh degrees, got me limping on the track
Hell is in your sneakers, Hell is in three stripes
Hell goes after the weakest, Hell if you're my type
Hell was the second season, Hell, I'd take a weekend
Of us in the deep end, while the city's on fire
Runners on the dashboard, papers for my passport
Finding shade is easy when you're stuck inside an airport
I'm not one for blood sport, but I'd play for you
If you need me you can reach me when I get north
I'll be a stones throw away from where you left me last season
Rolling down a window never
Hot around my collar get AC on
Rolling down a window never took this long
Feeling sore in C2 means pain that's gonna be 3D
Culture shock to me too, eyes jumping like ADD
I want to tell you, if my tongue won't melt off
If my shoes don't burn off, if that smile stays on
I'm a stones throw from where you left me last season
Look, it's still me, see, it's old me, I got the same skin, same teeth
I shoulda' double knotted cause I'm double tripping over you
Had to do a triple take, triple check you weren't dead
Haven't seen you since my very early days, why'd you wait till now to resurrect
Sunday was a metaphor, you were forever Sundays ago
This Sunday's up to one-oh-oh degrees, got me limping on the track
Hell is in your sneakers, Hell is in three stripes
Hell goes after the weakest, Hell if you're my type
Hell was the second season, Hell, I'd take a weekend
Of us in the deep end, while the city's on fire
Runners on the dashboard, papers for my passport
Finding shade is easy when you're stuck inside an airport
I'm not one for blood sport, but I'd play for you
If you need me you can reach me when I get north
I'll be a stones throw away from where you left me last season
Credits
Writer(s): A F
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
Link
Other Album Tracks
© 2024 All rights reserved. Rockol.com S.r.l. Website image policy
Rockol
- Rockol only uses images and photos made available for promotional purposes (“for press use”) by record companies, artist managements and p.r. agencies.
- Said images are used to exert a right to report and a finality of the criticism, in a degraded mode compliant to copyright laws, and exclusively inclosed in our own informative content.
- Only non-exclusive images addressed to newspaper use and, in general, copyright-free are accepted.
- Live photos are published when licensed by photographers whose copyright is quoted.
- Rockol is available to pay the right holder a fair fee should a published image’s author be unknown at the time of publishing.
Feedback
Please immediately report the presence of images possibly not compliant with the above cases so as to quickly verify an improper use: where confirmed, we would immediately proceed to their removal.