George Booth - I Just Poured HOT GRITS Down My Pants | Текст песни

• Тексты песен
• George Booth
• I Just Poured HOT GRITS Down My Pants

Falling in and out of time with you

I don't know if I'm morbid
or if I'm just scared
or unprepared for what death brings

'Cause we were something worth keeping, like a prize, a trophy on a shelf, out of reach of repeat, gold plastic that you could fucking swear was real and I hope that's all I ever was to you