Slow Dance

You gonna come get in this bookbag?
A brief intermission on a double back
Sniffin' up a heart attack for the thrills
Jets to tranquil
I won when I murdered the monster
But now those other monsters seem deranged
Still they sink into desire all the same
They all claim they can require, Pain Esquire
Reflect on tired power
Before we're mired in dust and fire and ash
Inquire admire admonish at last
It's a choir its a chore it's a poor a sire
Aspire to hope for a ghost on a wire
From southern New Hampshire
Or the east of France
Slow dance
They all claim they can require, Pain Esquire
Oh they all just want to retire



Credits
Writer(s): Ryan David Roberts
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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