Ripe — Stanky

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Текст Ripe — Stanky

So let it hit like it’s supposed to, babe
Ya know the evenin’ is a hell of a drug
Treat the rhythm like a secret, babe
I’ma try my best to try to cover it up
It sounds like «Turn out the lights, sit back, and float downstream”
Takes you ’til 22 to understand what that even begins to mean

And now you know
Singin’ «I’m not goin’ home»
I’m feelin’ it like I’m the only one
No, singin’ «I’m not goin’ home»
I wanna hear a little horse play a little trombone

Out of the suburbs with a strange ambition
To warp the definition of feelin’ alive
Feelin’ like an amateur at a track meet
Top speed barely enough to fall behind
I consider this a game of distance
And if that’s the case, it’s a matter of time
I’ma keep hummin’ in search of a megaphone
Sharpenin’ these edges of these dreams of mine

And I’ma sing «I’m not going home»
I’m feelin’ it like I’m the only one
And oh, I’m not goin’ home
Somebody please!