Greyhounds

Album: and the Anonymous Nobody... (2016)
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  • Fresh from a bible belt town
    That's what she's givin' up
    Not really livin', just flesh comin' off a Greyhound
    That's what he think of her
    Right at a blink of an eye he provides her with charm
    Hides that he is a shark
    Suggests a few apartments, never hints to the home
    That's what he wanna do
    She just wanna new zip code for an old dream
    Lost in an appetite now the big apple might
    Find her habit of a queen
    Feel the negro that's filled with an equal match road
    Destination unknown
    She's Little Bow Peep
    And her and her whole sheep gonna have their wool unsewn
    Now the wolf give a push
    Now watch her jump in with two feet
    Blue heat don't know how to swim through the limbs
    Everyone huggin' her, tuggin' her
    Ride on the merry-go-round of four drinks and two white lines
    Go fast with the fast life so she needs more
    One fun fix, now a daily chore
    Provide the score, written and produced so perverse
    He's a pro well versed
    Told her that the purse that she want
    With the shoes that she love and the rent that she need paid
    She can earn with speed in a day
    Escort on the high class side
    Champagne glass rides
    White snow waterfalls, oh how time flies
    When you're flyin', crash and burn
    She learned that her soul was dyin'
    That's worth savin'
    She's cravin' that bible belt town
    So she crawls back on the Greyhound

    Next stop, NYC
    Take your seats please
    I know exactly where you're goin', I can see it on your face
    I know how to get there
    And I give you my word that I get you there safe
    I don't need to check your baggage
    I don't need to know your name
    All I need to know is
    By the time you arrive, you'll forever be changed

    Fresh new Gucci belt, bound
    Fast to the city scape
    Dash to deliver fate
    Stashed in this duffel bag, proud
    He's no scaredy cat
    Life always spared in thy name
    That the gamblers fold
    No chips if the scramble got cold
    But them warm cushions and them soft bus seats
    Push that second thought along
    Beneath the roof of a Super 8, he sleeps 'til it's night time
    Then connects in the streets like a pipe line
    In dark shades he supplies dark brigades
    Of lost souls with his chemical morsels
    He's no lab tech
    He was born into a legacy stretched from Aztecs and beyond
    Assets he was drawn to
    Had him spinnin' the wool over his mother's eye
    He's the black sheep
    His pops career driven, he's the backseat
    The man on the wheel that cruises on sunrise
    That the man bought eyes to his pay per view
    The kind of paper make a fool shoot a staple through
    And take the label too
    Until he's campaign
    Unitl a pancake pocket change the landscape
    Take a short visit home in the town
    It's time to re-up, it's back on the Greyhound

    Next stop, NYC
    Take your seats please
    I know exactly where you're goin', I can see it on your face
    I know how to get there
    And I give you my word that I get you there safe
    I don't need to check your baggage
    I don't need to know your name
    All I need to know is
    By the time you arrive, you'll forever be changed

    By the time you arrive, you'll forever be changed
    By the time you arrive, you'll forever be changed
    Forever be changed, forever be changed
    Just watch where you're goin'
    And this food you're chosin'
    I don't need to check your baggage
    Pick it up along the way
    All I need to know is
    By the time you arrive you'll forever be changed, changed
    Forever be changed, be changed
    You'll forever be changed

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