Soup

Walking past your living room, looking to your window
On the off chance you were drawing your curtains for the night
I have no choice but to presume an ideal version of myself
Will one day become my truth
It's the only way I can manage and not crumble at the image
Of me and my present self
I think I've learned to live with it but I'd like to live without it
It's the only way I know

People my age have always died
I guess it's a percentage game, thank God I'm still alive!
I'm running out of things to say about the night time skyline
Come back to me at 8am

It's a long way to go to have nothing to do
Sticks for guns, hand in a clamp, papier mache shoes
Will we post on 4thesnax when we're old and we are grey
About the disappointing soup that we had for lunch today

People my age have always died
I guess it's a percentage game, thank God I'm still alive!
I'm running out of things to say about the night time skyline
Come back to me at 8am



Credits
Writer(s): Ben Wyborn
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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