Gloria Lewis

When the feeling comes
It always leaves
To the top of the hill, the hill of thieves

Brush that furious out
Hole in the well
You'd like the hole in your head to feel the breeze

If you're gonna ride, baby
Ride the wild horse
I can't drink no more
But I'll try
You can't find me, baby
In the basement
And I slug you in your fucking head, yeah

Whoa, oh, oh, oh
Whoa, oh, oh, oh
Whoa, oh, oh, whoa
Whoa, oh, oh

If you're gonna ride, baby
Ride the wild horse
We can't drink no more
But we'll try
You can't find us, baby
In the basement
And we'll slug you in your fucking head, yeah

Whoa, oh, oh, oh
Whoa, oh, oh, oh
Whoa, oh, oh, whoa
Whoa, oh, oh

Whoa, oh, oh, oh
Whoa, oh, oh, oh
Whoa, oh, oh, whoa
Whoa, oh, oh



Credits
Writer(s): Marca Canaglia
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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