Wiley from Atlanta - NO VACANCIES

How the fuck did we end up here
Listen to you play my heart like a drum
One hand counting up my fears
It’s getting hard to breathe here under your thumb
Tried to run away but you swayed to me
Palm trees pool water clear
I can tell that love is a game for ya
Pulling on my heartstrings like a puppeteer

Motel floor where the ash land
Cigarette smoke chandelier
No rooms left where we crash landed
But I’m home every time you draw near
Baby we can treat the backseat like a penthouse
Been a couple years since digging you out
Never made love like this right here
Like this right here

Neighborhood blood red from the sun
Sand stained pink from the rays darling
Neighborhood kids with guns
Shots ringing off like parade darling

Hold me close don’t run
Paranoia making my head knock
Your Lips stained pink from the sun
Ain’t no place we can stay darling

They ain’t got no vacancies
You done rolled all my weed up
Palms up smoking on tree
Somebody knocking don’t freeze up
Stained glass sky through the window
Paradise littered with debris
Floating on my back watch the world burn down
They don’t really give a fuck about me

You light up burn so well
You melt right on my tongue
No rooms at this motel
We hide here from the sun

Written by:
KIERAN RENE WATTERS-ROMERO, SAM BARSH, WILLIAM CRAIG BRYANT

Publisher:
Lyrics © CONCORD MUSIC PUBLISHING LLC

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