Sonder
Lookin at the rain and the passin' of cars
Swolen hands on the bars
Can I run off to mars?
Lookin back at the days when the world was ours
Got a mouth fulla bars
Bandaid on my scars
Girl we runnin outta time, like we run outta cards
With the hate in your eyes, like you run outta heart
Leaning into the breeze as I head off to war
Feeling close from afar
Sparks light the cigar
500 stitches in my chest
Didn't mean to make a mess
Didn't mean to be depressed
You the best girl
Rasberry summer in my chest
Never sleepin on success
Wind beatin on ya dress
I'm obsessed girl
Sleep above the city scapin' tables for a dolla
Lotta bank, lotta gwalla, in the streets we makin dimes, yeah
His feet scrape the clouds, workin overtime
Got an empty parking lot I'm lookin over mine
Pack a bag for the week I'm drivin into the sun
Eye bags to the floor cuz I ain't slept in a month, yeah
Homie feelin tired, when he workin' 9 to 5
Every day, on the grind, but he ain't even made a dime
What a time to be alive in this watseland
What a time to be alive in this wasteland
Lookin at the rain and the passin' of cars
Swolen hands on the bars
Can I run off to mars?
Lookin back at the days when the world was ours
Got a mouth fulla bars
Bandaid on my scars
Girl we runnin outta time, like we run outta cards
With the hate in your eyes, like you run outta heart
Leaning into the breeze as I head off to war
Feeling close from afar
Sparks light the cigar
Swolen hands on the bars
Can I run off to mars?
Lookin back at the days when the world was ours
Got a mouth fulla bars
Bandaid on my scars
Girl we runnin outta time, like we run outta cards
With the hate in your eyes, like you run outta heart
Leaning into the breeze as I head off to war
Feeling close from afar
Sparks light the cigar
500 stitches in my chest
Didn't mean to make a mess
Didn't mean to be depressed
You the best girl
Rasberry summer in my chest
Never sleepin on success
Wind beatin on ya dress
I'm obsessed girl
Sleep above the city scapin' tables for a dolla
Lotta bank, lotta gwalla, in the streets we makin dimes, yeah
His feet scrape the clouds, workin overtime
Got an empty parking lot I'm lookin over mine
Pack a bag for the week I'm drivin into the sun
Eye bags to the floor cuz I ain't slept in a month, yeah
Homie feelin tired, when he workin' 9 to 5
Every day, on the grind, but he ain't even made a dime
What a time to be alive in this watseland
What a time to be alive in this wasteland
Lookin at the rain and the passin' of cars
Swolen hands on the bars
Can I run off to mars?
Lookin back at the days when the world was ours
Got a mouth fulla bars
Bandaid on my scars
Girl we runnin outta time, like we run outta cards
With the hate in your eyes, like you run outta heart
Leaning into the breeze as I head off to war
Feeling close from afar
Sparks light the cigar
Credits
Writer(s): Josiah Simpson
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
Link
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