Goody grace

Girls in the suburbs singing smiths songs

Goody grace
She don't hit me up anymore, no
Things that were fun just ain't fun anymore, no
Six in the morning I know I should go home
But I, uh-huh
High as fuck and the clock's screaming tick-tock
Girls in the suburbs singing Smiths songs
I know that it's wrong
I don't know what I'm doin, but

Maybe one day it'll all make sense
Maybe one day it'll all make sense
Maybe one day it'll all make sense
But I just don't know when
And it feels like the end
And all of my friends
Said

That I should get my mind off of the wrong things
I should probably tear off all my heart strings
You can't pull them no more, no
Can I pass out on your floor
Can I have a little more so I can
Hear you babble on some more about him
About him, yeah
I got a little water bottle full of whiskey
Oh, you lookin pretty like a model you should kiss me
You so cool with your drugs and your ripped jeans
I'm with you, but you ain't with me, no, no

Maybe one day it'll all make sense
But I just don't know when
And it feels like the end
And all of my friends, said

That I should get my mind off of the wrong things
I should probably tear off all my heart strings
You can't pull them no more

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