27 Club

Hey, hey, I thought that you would call me
Are you still kinda high
Coming down from the molly?
Oh, it's fine, I ain't on anyone's mind
And I know that I gotta have faith
But it's kinda fuckin' hard at the end of every day
Stuck in my mind
Like all the time

And some nights when I'm feeling suicidal
I could reach for the gun, I could reach for the bottle
But it's great
At least, now I'm getting paid

And it goes on, and on, and on
It goes on, and on, and on
And suddenly you're gone

I'm out in LA with a Beverly Hills hottie
The kind that wants to go and sniff the pills off my body
Only knows me 'cause I wrote the song about the hotel lobby
But trust me, all my wilder days are behind me

I'm laying in bed at the Château
With someone I saw on TV, but I barely even know
Small talk for a second, then I gotta leave
Walk out separate, you're famous, you can't be seen with me

It goes on, and on, and on
It goes on, and on, and on
And suddenly you're gone
I don't know if I would call it luck
But I, I didn't make the 27 club
I'm 28
So, y'all ain't gotta dig my grave

It goes on, and on, and on
It goes on, and on, and on
It goes on, and on, and on
It goes on, and on, and on
It goes on, and on, and on
It goes on, and on, and on
And suddenly you're gone



Credits
Writer(s): Morgan Dealie Wade
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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