Illinois

It's winter
Where I live
My mind's made up, I'm out of here
So I bought
My brother's car
Gave him a half a grand for it

Headlights
In the dark
These next few weeks, they might be rough
Sleeping on the floor
Of my friend Tom
He saw The Cure in '99

I want to be your joy
I want to be your boy
The fitful edge of the void
Oh save me, Illinois

Spilled liquor
A broken nose
Not exactly what I would expect
No one here
To save the day
Goddamn, these artists aren't getting payed

Lover
Of the past
Feels like stepping on broken glass
Motel room
Corner store gin
You tell me not to worry about him
You tell me not to worry about him

I want to be your joy
I want to be your boy
The fitful edge of the void
Oh save me, Illinois

I want to be your ploy
Your burning horse of Troy
Your stainless steel hell
There's blood in the motel



Credits
Writer(s): Barbora Kobzová, Daniel White, Martin Matějec
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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