Texty

Believe me, I'm running dry I used to have the cool to refill my high But now the reefer keeps me all trapped inside And I keep setting the alarm but still miss my ride I'm calling for you, please don't go Winter's coming, I'm so cold Dreams are like the hands you fold Maybe I'm just getting old I'm just getting old And I fall behind on taxes Are just crippling me, I go blind Came back from Ibiza and I lost my mind It's hard to understand But I still need you to say I'm fine I'm calling for you, please don't go Winter's coming, I'm so cold Dreams are like the hands you fold Maybe I'm just getting old I'm getting old All my sorrow, all my pain And I'm just a man Ain't got no one to blame And truth be told I'm getting old I'm calling for you, please don't go Winter's coming, I'm so cold Dreams are like the hand I fold I'm just getting old It's the debt I owe Lies are truth untold I'm just getting old I'm just getting old (getting old, getting old) I'm getting old (getting old)
Writer(s): Tomas Pontifex Horn, Bhaskar Achkar Peres Petrillo, Iro Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
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