Somewhere South of Here - Dead Friends

Like you I will end up like dirt in the end
You wanted to be with all your dead friends
Now you're not anywhere else but my head
I saw you on TV before all of this
You crawled out the car you drove and you flipped
Your own meds only ever made you more sick
No one comes around here much anymore
The wind won't let me win when it blows
It screams and bellows "so it goes"
As above so below
As above, so
The righteous man claims eternity
For your impiety
The sympathetic folks claim that you're now free
From your skin suit of anxiety
No one comes around here much anymore

Written by:
Austin Vicars, Jack Hoover, John Boyak, Jordan Wagel

Publisher:
Lyrics © O/B/O DistroKid

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