Bleachers
Bleachers - Jesus Is Dead lyrics
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Each night I pray that I'll meet God Under the worry of my thoughts Uh-huh Nothing better than to be All Phantom Thread with somebody So nice A kid I used to babysit Drinks himself off a Dimes Square bench Uh-huh, uh-huh Oh yeah Tell them to grease the wheels Pull the arrow back, start the appeal I'm not the man who sold the world I saw exactly what I asked For I'm the well-adjusted herb Uh-huh A teenage girl just sized me up It's something I don't wanna discuss Uh-huh, what's wrong? Oh yeah Tell them to grease the wheels Pull the arrow back, start the appeal I'm not the man who sold the world Jesus is dead and so's New York I built a place right down the shore It's nice Do you remember DFA? Misshapes and, oh, the great Long-wave I do and I miss it All the time Tell them to grease the wheels Flip the hourglass, start up the steal I'm not the man who sold the world We drove forever and the venue herbs Took all of our money and all of our merch Fuck off (fuck off) So let's make it Bleachers, make it shore The louder you scream, the harder he blows You know what I mean Texas man cause a scene Tell them to grease the wheels Pull the arrow back, start the appeal I'm not the man who sold the world