Cokes on Sunday

This room is so empty, my lungs are so heavy, my heart it hurts
I filled it with plenty of all of our memories, but it won't work
and I lay on the ground, and I stare at the ceiling,
and I think to myself, this is bad, this is bad

(whoa oh oh oh oh)
You don't understand I'm dying
(whoa oh oh oh oh)
You don't understand I'm dying
(whoa oh oh oh oh)
You don't understand I'm dying
(whoa oh oh oh oh)
You don't understand I'm dying

This room is so empty, my lungs are so heavy, my heart is hurts
I filled it with plenty of all of our memories, but it's too late
And I lay on the ground, and I stare at the ceiling,
and I think to myself, this is bad, this is bad

(whoa oh oh oh oh)
You don't understand I'm dying
(whoa oh oh oh oh)
You don't understand I'm dying
(whoa oh oh oh oh)
You don't understand I'm dying
(whoa oh oh oh oh)
You don't understand I'm dying



Credits
Writer(s): Jonny Larson, Kevin Labarre, Mike Sellars, Paul Miller
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

Link