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PERFORMING ARTISTS
Taylor McCall
Taylor McCall
Lead Vocals
COMPOSITION & LYRICS
Taylor McCall
Taylor McCall
Songwriter
PRODUCTION & ENGINEERING
Taylor McCall
Taylor McCall
Producer

Στίχοι

I was running on fumes and never on time It's half past eleven and I'm losing my mind Call me up a doctor tell him Waccamaw Drive Up past the saw mill and the barbed wire No one could find me, neither could I It's like sifting through the gold just to hold pyrite Covered up clues of his bad desires Then the hands of other people, it was bound to backfire I need your saving grace to hit my tongue Like a drop of holy medicine Won't you hit me with another dose Addiction's tough but love is close Call of the search when it's her you find For this my son, can't be prescribed I hope you're feeling alright Off fighting battles from no man's land But less of a mountain never built a better man There are those on knees with their toes in the sand They're the loudest to preach when it's gotten out of hand So I'll take this money and burn it to the ground 'Cause we both know company makes no sound I need your saving grace to hit my tongue Like a drop of holy medicine Won't you hit me with another dose Addiction's tough but love is close Call of the search when it's her you find For this my son, can't be prescribed I hope you're feeling alright
Writer(s): Taylor Edward Mccall Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
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