Trouble In America

White Lies

Compositor: Não Disponível

My body, my clothes, it's a kosher, a fix
This is God-fearing money, yeah
This is God-fearing money
And mine to throw about in the air
I'm dipping my toes and not a second late
I fly a heart full of honey, yeah
This is God-fearing country
So I can be a God if I dare

Don't, don't
Come any closer, now I'm gold, gold
I never meant you to know
But now they've got a thousand cops in the air

My old man's making trouble in America
Oh Lord, take the weight off me
My old man's making trouble in America
Oh Lord, take the weight off me

My knowledge, my coulds, your eternal bliss
Be a star in my yearning, yeah
You're a star
Could you hurt any man to make a fall of our dead
My readers' long notes
All a vision within to me for the hungry bears
It's survival for the lucky
If chips are all you're watching down there

Don't, don't
Come any closer, now I'm gold, gold
I never meant you to know
But now they've got a thousand cops in the air
No, no
I won't believe in my soul, soul
I feel it heaving, oh no
They'll put me on the TV crying to death

My old man's making trouble in America
Oh Lord, take the weight off me
My old man's making trouble in America
Oh Lord, take the weight off me

My old man's making trouble in America
Oh Lord, take the weight off me
My old man's making trouble in America
Oh Lord, take the weight off me
My old man's making trouble in America
Oh Lord, take the weight off me
My old man's making trouble in America
Oh Lord, take the weight off me