Chaste

Driving to a grave
Listening to some old songs
I forgot my pair of socks
In this big resort

And while my mum stares at the clock
And in the background is TV spot
I say this not
Going to be my plot
I say this won't be my blood

So girl, run away from this dust
But doing it fast
You lose your pace
But how can someone still be chaste
When you find out
Your hause is made of glass

And while my mum stares at the clock
And in the background there's TV spot
I say this not going to be my plot
I say this won't be my blood



Credits
Writer(s): Grazia Mori Mori
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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