lyrics
White
Keep it real, keep it fancy
Keep it rich; buy all the clothes
We don’t have enough thread to mend these troubles at hand
Be someone, be someone of wealth
Be someone, be someone of stature
Be someone, be someone of greed
Be someone, be someone in reach
Our heels are worn down to the bones
Our bodies flail like skipping stones
We don’t have enough thread to mend these troubles at hand
Be someone, be somebody’s woman
Be someone, be someone tonight
And won’t be afraid to say they’re wrong
Won’t be ashamed, won’t play along
Now gone, all the lakes we saw when we were ten years old
Now gone, all but drained into the earth
Now gone, marshes and ponds along the coasts
Now gone, all but drained into the earth
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