With Stones in His Pockets - Let's Stop Pretending Like I Wasn't Born With Plenty

Meet me in the alley, my suit's clean but I am dirty
When I look at myself I close my eyes to shut you out
I'm a joke and you're a work of art
A vision, a flashback, a meeting
But I never fit in
Let's stop pretending like I wasn't born with plenty
When I dream of you I see a door with your name on
I am your new client, and I'm very hard to please
I just wanna make some sense out of everything
I'm giddy, I'm silly, I'm sober
Back to the poison pool
Yeah you are filthy rich, but how is your family?
Show me how it makes you feel
At the time it felt so real
Watch the world go up in flames
Walk away and take my name
Abundance, a severance
I wanna burn this whole place to ashes
A look of recognition, an unwelcome proposition
You look so familiar, there's a stain on my soul
Everything I say is innuendo
So funny, so fearless, so lonely
I have a busy afternoon
It was fun while it lasted but was just a flight of fancy
Is that all there is well maybe it was never meant to be so
Let's stop pretending like I wasn't born with plenty

Written by:
Robert Tamplin

Publisher:
Lyrics © O/B/O DistroKid

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