Mondays

Ethel Cain

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    You ask me if I'm angry
    Well, hell yeah, I fucking am
    Can't help the way God made me
    But he won't get away with that again
    My stomach's torn up of gunfire
    And improvisational white lies
    It's not sustainable, but it's just traditional
    And I couldn't hold him if I wanted to

    So I left my man in the middle of the highway
    Won't be seen with him, 'cause that’s embarrassing
    He can be such a bitch and it makes me sick
    All right, all right

    You ask me if I'm angry
    Well, hell yeah, I fucking am
    It's been too long since I've gotten laid
    And longer still since I wanted it
    The only time I'll open up is when I'm firing
    A bad case of the Mondays with no silver lining

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    The cigarettes in your bag
    You walk out to take a smoke
    I know you cough and you choke
    Just tryna deal with it all
    We live our lives on loop
    You couldn't believe the truth
    And so I always knew
    That you'd be watching my fall
    Maybe I'll wake up on Monday
    I know that you see me this one way
    85 and raining but we still alive
    Hour long ride but I been hearin' lies
    Think that I'd be hypnotized
    Drenched in your vanity
    I might be off a little bit, but still got sanity
    Tell me that I couldn't leave
    Now I can't breathe
    Your sister calls, she sees you move
    And thinks she can't see
    The world isn't blind
    I been readin' your mind
    Tryna put the pieces all together (all together)
    Now you see me online
    And you think it's divine
    But I'm sorry, I've been movin' better
    No, no, no

    The things that I've seen
    Would make most people sick
    The dream that I dream
    Is something that they never get, get, get
    The things (Get) that I've seen
    Would make most people sick
    The dream that I dream
    Is something that they never get
    Somehow I'm still standin', who would have thought?
    I have been looking for my problems
    And knew you were lost

    Flaunting that I'm not the type to be wrong
    When I've known the type to ruin lives
    So my eyes are wide
    I'll let you in on something, baby
    I can be crazy
    If you want crazy

    You say that I look angry
    Well, hell yeah, you’re fucking right
    Hot pacing the back porch from all the conversation
    Squared up with time for these dicks tonight
    But the only time I’ll open up is when I'm firing
    A bad case of the Mondays with no silver
    With no silver lining

    Laugh myself to death, it's so hilarious
    Everything is a mess and we're aware of it
    I'd expect nothing less, but I still hate Mondays
    Yeah, I still hate Mondays
    I still hate Mondays
    I still hate Mondays

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