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Correct Suburb Summer Lyrics
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Artists: A
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Axe Apache
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Correct Suburb Summer
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Lyrics:
A brew at the beach, a stew in the sand Sit in the sun, a blunt in my hand... X2 Not giving a fuck, I'm just living my life Shotgunning cans of natural light, do this in the dark in a parking lot parked, the start of the journey on which I'll embark Enter into an anonymous house, surrounded by bodies and blasted with sounds, on the left are some baddies just knocking back rounds, morphing from bitches to alcohol hounds Begin screamin with joy, by the end they just cry, picked up by their ex way too drunk to drive The rest are doing their best, to hide that painful feeling deep in their chest, growing up blessed, the gift of white privilege what makes them depressed, pressure and stress expected to pass expectations expressed, numb out their worries with lit cigarettes A brew at the beach, a stew in the sand Sit in the sun, a blunt in my hand... X2 Relentless intent, I meant what I said In pursuit of my goals, go on get upset While other waste time to get fucked up instead I'll be at home writing alone at my desk Don't know what I need, not corporate greed, my girl by my side, and a kiss on the cheek Enjoying the highs while we scared of the low Savor the moments and don't let them go Tomorrow I know I'll wake up at home Ready to go many nights in a row At this point I can't tell my friends from a foe Everyone's acting my life is a show And I'm the lead role, it's taking a toll, so I sit back stage just hitting my bowl Wanting time to just stop for a second, so I can catch up and pick up where I left it, Going too fast, I asked for marathon, life is dash, we sprint to the finish and then we look back, craving to run back and live in the past, but we cannot do that It's a one way street, made of molten concrete, by the end the shoes have burned off of our feet So I live for the moment, I grasp it and hold it, polish it up let it shine like it's golden We getting older, every year adds a stone to the shoulder, stress and pressure turns it into a boulder, weigh us down going lower and lower till we just collapse and it jams up our motor I'll let time elapse, with whiskey and rum that I poured to a flask, in busy gone fishing if anyone asks, catch me in a daze kick backed relaxed A brew at the beach, a stew in the sand Sit in the sun, a blunt in my hand... X2
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