(Unknown) lyrics
Me and my baby
We drank some magic tea We're crusing down the rural roads Aesthetics of poverty I'm going down for the last time I shifted to my level Can you receive what you give me Somebody should set you free In the morning When you wash your hair I love those simple things that Make me know your there Come every sunday evening It's leftovers from the weekenders Lost limbs to identify Frustration for the grieving
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