Lyrics

Pray for the day Pray for the day that I die They called me late last night Too bad my brain was fried Come Monday morning Real lives are calling Call one more fucking time and I swear I'll set it off I don't know what I signed up for But I know this isn't it So tell me, baby what you lying for 'Cos you're giving me the ick I could go on and on But what the fuck for? The glass shoe doesn't fit It makes me itch It makes me sick (Yeah) Go get a job Suit up and wear a tie I'm alright They want me at my best My best is fucking high (Yeah yeah) Come Monday morning Real lives are calling Call one more fucking time and I swear I'll set it off (Don't test me) I don't know what I signed up for But I know this isn't it So tell me, baby what you lying for 'Cos you're giving me the ick I could go on and on But what the fuck for? The glass shoe doesn't fit It makes me itch It makes me sick (Yeah) Fuck a job, fuck a cop Give 'em everything you got Fuck the man, Fuck a opp Don't be something that you're not Fuck Monday morning Real life is boring I don't know what I signed up for But I know this isn't it So tell me, baby what you lying for 'Cos you're giving me the ick I could go on and on But what the fuck for? The glass shoe doesn't fit It makes me itch It makes me itch (Yeah) Come Monday morning Real lives are calling It makes me itch (Yeah) Fuck Monday morning Real life is boring It makes me itch It makes me sick
Writer(s): Zachary Jones, Samuel Clifford, Alex Tobijanski, Thomas Hawkes Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
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