Correction Paroles Seaweed Sheets (DANCEHALLHORNSOUND!!!! Remix) par Astronautalis

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Paroles

Tires and broken trees
All washed up on rubble beach
Best lover I never loved
Tucked beneath the seaweed sheets
Little scraps of shells and sand caked your shaky hand
As little fingertips slide inside of my belt loop again
Your matted hair and sappy stare lost inside the haze of the sun
Stumbling a three legged race
You lean on me the whole way back home
You can never guess what you find washed up on a shore
On the sunny day after a storm

I left her there in bed that day
To watch a hotel hauled away on backs of trucks
Among stacks of bricks, lithographs of seaside scenes
Flap in the breeze the canvas ripped
I guess I'm scared to wake up next to her
Or maybe I'm too scared to ever fall asleep
Comfortably coiled in a tide pool at the edge of the beach
I watch the world wake up as the sun leaves a land of the stucco bleached
Stomach rocks with the waves, a smile is tossed on my face
Cement feet drag me neck deep, sometimes a bit of trouble is great

Whatever you about to discover we off that
You about to tell her you love her we off that
Always wanna fight in the club and we off that
But you can't bring the future back, back
Y'all are steady chasin the fame and we off that
Oversized clothes and chains we off that
n***as still making it rain and we off that
'Cause you can't bring the future back, back
Tell them haters get off me, the Cris' we off that
Timbs we off that, rims we off that
(Yeah we off that, is you still on that?)
(And we still makin money 'cause we still on that)

We never leave a ransom
We fill your car wash up with drugs
We drink our beer in the shower
We leave without locking up
Round here the days are just packed
With same smirking faces and the same haircuts

The city's a boarding school with rigid hemlines and golden rules
A grid of pictures yellow light highlighting only chosen few
Look we made the news again, me and my old friends (haha)
I'm sick, she's a communist, he's p*ssed we're all monuments
To the greatest hair-dos of the modern age
Let's escape, we can smoke cigarettes and comb the woods for dirty magazines
Sneak out ruin our shoes and hide from no one inside of the
When they fill us in on exactly what me missed
We'll never talk about all of the nervous little breaths
Tomorrow when we're retracing our all our shaky little steps
We'll never tell a soul that we kissed

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