Dirty Old Shoes

Holding my head while my feet trail behind
Hoping to find what's left inside
Glass on the street, bounce off the wall
Nothing seems scary when you're six feet tall

I've got no money left in the bank So I'm gonna go and have a drink
They've got some jewels, yet I've got a crumb
That's such a pity, what else can be done

I wanna know, but I can't be bothered
I search through my head and the things I have gathered
Dirty old shoes, they sit on my table
I'll find some new ones once I feel stable

I'd like to know why I can't jump the fence
Like everyone else, it just makes sense
Got a few coins that might help me sail
The truth of it is it's all gone stale

The gas has turned off, my house is cold
The walls are all damp, and they're covered in mold
I stand in pitch black with my head on the wall
I don't wanna say but I think I might fall

Back in my awkward skin
It's gonna be my luck
I don't give a fuck

Back in my awkward skin
It's gonna be my luck
I don't give a fuck

Back in my awkward skin
It's gonna be my luck
I don't give a fuck

I wanna know, but I can't be bothered
I search through my head and the things I have gathered
Dirty old shoes, they sit on my table
I'll find some new ones once I feel stable again

Holding my head while my feet trail behind
Hope that I find what's left inside



Credits
Writer(s): Martha Greer
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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