Your native language

عربي

Arabic

عربي

简体中文

Chinese

简体中文

Nederlands

Dutch

Nederlands

Français

French

Français

Deutsch

German

Deutsch

Italiano

Italian

Italiano

日本語

Japanese

日本語

한국인

Korean

한국인

Polski

Polish

Polski

Português

Portuguese

Português

Română

Romanian

Română

Русский

Russian

Русский

Español

Spanish

Español

Türk

Turkish

Türk

Українська

Ukrainian

Українська
User Avatar

Sound


Interface


Difficulty level


Accent



interface language

en

Lyrkit YouTube Lyrkit Instagram Lyrkit Facebook
Cookie policy   |   Support   |   FAQ
1
register / login
Lyrkit

donate

5$

Lyrkit

donate

10$

Lyrkit

donate

20$

Lyrkit

And/Or support me in social. networks:


Lyrkit YouTube Lyrkit Instagram Lyrkit Facebook
Jeff Rosenstock

***BNB

 

***BNB

(album: NO DREAM - 2020)


Sam, your mom has secretly been renting out your home
I used the shower sponge when you went to Spain alone
She told us it's been rough and you deserved a break
And marrying that guy, obviously was mistake
You had a couple kids but now he's always gone
And you're stuck sweeping hair at your mommy's hair salon
The flat you have upstairs, tucked in the suburbs safe
Is running low on bread and other amenities
'Cause your mom's secretly renting your place

Al, your elevator looked in hella disrepair
But I'm not fucking with a dozen flights of stairs
I tenderized my legs somewhere in Germany
Trying to convince the bored to pay attention to me
The absinthe that we drank? I'm not sure it was real
Massage place in the building? We know what's the fucking deal
'Cause fratboys wait outside, pretending they're not there
Avert their glassy eyes, but I don't really care

I don't wanna lay in bed and stare at the ceiling
While chasing the fleeting
There's too much in my head to sleep
And I did the thing that movie said
"Foot on the floor beside the bed"
Still too much in my head to sleep
Too much in my head to sleep
Too much in my head to sleep tonight

Get fucked up, break your stupid bones again
And get, get fucked up, lose your telephone again
And get, get fucked up, bother all your friends again
And get, get fucked up, shame your broken heart again

I really gotta leave, but I just wanna stay
I'm only a real person for a quarter-dozen days
Until I gotta scram, until I go away
And turn into a person that I wouldn't wanna meet
Cultivating mold on my laundry
And becoming so afraid I'm honestly
Placing bets on a chemical crapshoot with my brain
Cleaning for the dealer so I'll black out on the plane
Mumbling in the dark and living vicariously
Through a photo album in a stranger's BNB

done

Did you add all the unfamiliar words from this song?