Hustle

When I come home, you won't be there any more
When I come home, you won't be there any more
And you will tear off your clothes and kiss the floor
When I come home, home, home

When I see land, you will conjurer up a storm
When I see land, you will conjurer up a storm
And I will tie your hands to the highest mast
When I see land, land, land

And we will hustle, hustle, hustle to be free
Free from all the happy thoughts and smiles across the sea
In favor of the mean, mean, moves
And back doors to the heart
From where we always, always fall apart

And you will slide on the back of my bike
And you will slide on the back seat of my bike
And I will ride you home, drunken in the rain
Cause you will win again and again

Now it's your turn, you will tie me to the tree
Now it's your turn, you will tie me to the tree
And you will sing and sing forever you and me
And in the dark I wonder what you see

And we will hustle, hustle, hustle to be free
Free from all the happy thoughts and smiles across the sea
In favor of the mean, mean, moves
And back doors to the heart
From where we always, always fall apart

And we will hustle, hustle, hustle to be free
Free from all the happy thoughts and smiles across the sea
In favor of the mean, mean, moves
And back doors to the heart
From where we always, always fall apart



Credits
Writer(s): Michael Lewis Lindsay, Philip David Winter, Rebecca Jacobs, Martin Smith, Ben Bickerton, Ashley Bates
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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