I'll Make You Famous

Hey, let's go, I was driving down the interstate
Looking for a getaway from all the killjoy jobs
And I know how every single song goes
DJ turn the volume up, let's get on the dance floor

And it's a bore and it's rerun
I've heard before on the last song
They're scraping from the bottom of the barrel
For a new improved original that no ones heard before

Another party jam
Everybody's getting out of hand, out of hand
Another wasted youth falling on the floor
Crawling out the door, just slipping away

Show time, the party scene is filing in
Looking for a hideaway from all the deadbeats clones
And I know how every single night goes crash out
On the balcony tearing up the front lawn

And it's a bore it's a rerun
I've seen before every weekend
And they're scraping from the bottom of the barrel
For a new improved original that no ones heard before

Another party jam
Everybody's getting out of hand, out of hand
Another wasted youth falling on the floor
Crawling out the door, just slipping away

We're slipping, just slipping away
We're wasting just wasting our days

Another party jam
Everybody's getting out of hand, out of hand
Another wasted youth falling on the floor
Crawling out the door, just slipping away



Credits
Writer(s): Peter Abraham Stewart, John Harry Collier, Nathan Graham Rockwell, Chad Jeffrey Nichols
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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