Typewriters

It's far too late to change our fate
(they're drafting reinforcements)
We're turning pennies into pounds
For suits who aren't even around
Is this the end or a lie?
That this is it until we die?
We're losing this
You're gonna see
Nobody's listening to me

We're weak, asleep
And trying to keep ourselves above the ground
Not six feet under it

We're weak, asleep
And trying to keep ourselves above the ground
Not six feet under it



Give the monkeys typewriters
And let them have their say
Cause if we give them long enough
They'll write my fucking eulogy
My fucking eulogy
Urh!



We're weak, asleep
And trying to keep ourselves above the ground
Not six feet under it

We're weak, asleep
And trying to keep ourselves above the ground
Not six feet under it



Credits
Writer(s): Chris Parsons, Ciaran Sheekey, Craig Frampton, Dave Williams, Eric Duxbury
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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