
Evil Spawn
Waxahatchee
Take my money, I don't work that hard
I fall asleep in the beating heart
Of a dying breed peddling some lost art
Watch it fade, watch it fall apart
You let me go on and on
In the tall grass of a con
The prestige of some evil spawn
Well, I guess that's yours to settle on
There ain't nothing to it, babe
We can roll around in the disarray
In the final act of the good ole days
Ooh
What you're holding so close
Calls you by name
What you thought was enough
Now seems insane
If we stand out in some wild city street
Dodging every car, every thief, and disease
Catching tiny crumbs in the heartless breeze
Say we're tough as nails, say we're both naive
You let me fill every room
Wax poetic and presume
Your principles ripen into
A fragile tomb, watch it split in two
What you do and you say
Sustain harmony
What you thought was enough
Well, it works for me
There ain't nothing to it, babe
We can roll around in the disarray
In the final act of the good ole days
In the final act of the good ole days
Ooh (good ole days)
Ooh (good ole days)
Ooh (good ole days)
Ooh (good ole)



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