MUSIC
Loans, they are riddled with holes, And I confirm they say that holes are not these
walls of my own. Alone, my thoughts are heavy on the pillow, And I can't help but wonder what could be beneath the floorboard.
Summer and a new state, would you be my place then? Be the boxes made of cardboard and move me.
Don't know what's keeping me awake, I keep on focusing on every sound I hear from my home.
Loans, they are riddled with holes, And I confirm they say that holes are not these walls of my own.
Summer and a new state, would you be my place then? Be the boxes made of cardboard and move me.
Summer and a new state, would you be my one and only, Be the needle to the record and move me.
Summer and a new state, would you be my blank slate? Be the boxes made of cardboard and move me and move me.
Summer and a new state, would you be my one and only, Be the needle to the record and move me.
