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Lyrics submited by: Kicko


Me and my baby
We drank some magic tea
We're crusing down the rural roads
Aesthetics of poverty

I'm going down for the last time
I shifted to my level
Can you receive what you give me
Somebody should set you free

In the morning
When you wash your hair
I love those simple things that
Make me know your there

Come every sunday evening
It's leftovers from the weekenders
Lost limbs to identify
Frustration for the grieving

20 lines, overall lyrics popularity 0.05%
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