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cam carter - good suit lyrics
[chorus:]
i’ve had my dreams fall down to the fibers in the carpet
lost love somewhere stage diving in a moshpit
fed up with the miracles growing in the garden
tossed a quarter in the water
i wish i never had a dollar
woke up in my good suit in johnny cash black
a pair of dice in my pocket that never shot a cr-p
a forty five shooting rockets that only speaks facts
a tear drop from an angel landed on my lap
[verse 1:]
grip reality- snapback to the ashes so low
watching statues crumbles and fall to the flow
stuck in a journet filled with nonsense
mixed with a c0ke
stirring ice so cold like it never had a soul
drink up, f-ck it-to h-ll with a toast
that’s how it feels in a desert living with ghosts
bandanna- bad grammer cl!ck the hammer back (blow)
i’m a bad guy- a livin’ legend
i gotta get it as i go
[chorus:]
i’ve had my dreams fall down to the fibers in the carpet
lost love somewhere stage diving in a moshpit
fed up with the miracles growing in the garden
tossed a quarter in the water
i wish i never had a dollar
woke up in my good suit in johnny cash black
a pair of dice in my pocket that never shot a cr-p
a forty five shooting rockets that only speaks facts
a tear drop from an angel landed on my lap
[verse 2:]
the snake bites the surface and slithers to the edge
of the guitar stings of stress
and everything’s a test
a lesson but peace never rests
and i wear it on my shoulder like a pet
an owl of wisdom it looks like h-ll done kissed him
a gangster just lookin’ for a victi
shooting for attention but it’s all another vision in my head
dressed in all black like johnny because everybody’s dead
[chorus:]
i’ve had my dreams fall down to the fibers in the carpet
lost love somewhere stage diving in a moshpit
fed up with the miracles growing in the garden
tossed a quarter in the water
i wish i never had a dollar
woke up in my good suit in johnny cash black
a pair of dice in my pocket that never shot a cr-p
a forty five shooting rockets that only speaks facts
a tear drop from an angel landed on my lap
[verse 3:]
here’s to my enemies a whiskey shot
down a barrel of despair
not a smile in a crowd of middle fingers in the air
say goodbye till tomorrow it’s a short road to h-ll
fake like i’m okay but the burden’s like a whale
and the silence creeps till the twelve o’clock bell
listen to the beat but the beat’s gone stale
at the end of the night an all else fails
strike up my last cigarette and light my last oh well
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