Crédits - Remerciements
webmaster@samesizefeet.net



Retour

Everyday I Think Of Money

I drive a truck
It carries money
And everyday
I dream up my fantasies
Yesterday I
Bought my beach house
Little place just
Off the coast of France

Everyday I think of money
Everyday I think of running

I love my truck
I love my family
Stacked in the back
The good life surrounds me
Could tie my right hand man
And put him some place
Then I’d ditch the truck and
I'd buy a new face

Everyday I think of money
Everyday I think of someway

It can't buy you love
Can't give you soul
Can pick you up
Can down you low
Can drag you out
Of the hole
And you dug
Yourself
Out of
Again

Sat in a truck
It carries convicts
My hands are bound
To the seat by hand cuffs
Tomorrow I’ll maybe
Walk around the yard
Or paint in my cell and
Hate imprisonment

Everyday I think of money
Everyday I miss my family

Retour



© www.SAMESIZEFEET.net - le site français des STEREOPHONICS
webmaster@samesizefeet.net