Bodega

Here I am
At the bottom of a bucket
Just a sandcastle
Not yet built
Do you hear me
No well fuck it

I'm just doin' my best
Trying to make rent
Working sixty hours makes me
Wish that I were dead

Searching for a home
In other people
It's hard not
To be bitter
They're not haunted
They're just people

They're just doing their best
Trying to make rent
I'm sure working sixty hours makes them
Wish that they were dead

Maybe just try and
See the things I can't ignore
Like the cannibals
At our corner store

Maybe I'll die and
Be something you can't avoid
Like a heart attack
Or an asteroid

Like a heart attack
Or an asteroid



Credits
Writer(s): Vince Thompson
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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