Little Black Shoes

Royalties went up my nose
Designer clothes from Melrose, Baby, we're the coolest
Vegetarian beefcakes
Out on the scene with my cellmates we're looking like the Stooges

Bell bottom jeans and pointy toed boots can you hear me?
Rose colored shades and tepid blues roots can you see me?

Money got you singing the rich man's blues
Nowhere to run in my little black shoes, do you feel me?

Hippy dippy women in Dolce & Gabbana got the sauna popping off by the poolside Cabana at the chateau
Living hand to mouth yet somehow paying the cost of Saint Laurent ponchos for Indio Ayahuasca on the plateau

Floppy brimmed hats and coconut wax can you hear me?
Little white sacs in cigarette packs do you feel me?

Money got you singing the rich man's blues.
Nowhere to run in my little black shoes. Do you feel me?

Manson family children are coming over the hill in Burrito Brothers suits, a meticulous Look to kill.
It's the cutest.
Past is what it is. Tomorrow ain't what it was. Embrace the acid visions and tell yourself That the swastikas are Buddhist.

Daddy can't lose the punky tattoos.
Can you hear me?
Those who excuse who abuse the underage youths can you see me?

Money got you singing the rich man's blues.
Nowhere to run in your little black shoes, do you feel me?



Credits
Writer(s): Ian Murray
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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