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Sick

I’m sick to hear you talk, i have better things to do, I’m here for the same reason as you

I’m sick of the same old conversations, we’re just drunk we’ve never been friends

I’m sick of pats on my back, of people who forgets
You’re sick too, of the same old records you made
You’re sick too even if you behave

I’m not taking no lessons, we’re not part of a team, ever since “In goat we trust” this is where I have been

You look a little out of shape, you and your friends
The last 5 records sounded the same in the end

It’s all over
this is the end
Everything decays, and burns like Alexandria
Driving in hell, top down in Santa Monica
Until the end, drink like a Casamonica

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