Sister Saint

Waxahatchee

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    Weak knees, fuck your sympathy.
    I'll be my own best friend.
    She prays as the radio plays
    "I See A Bad Moon Rising.." again.
    Foretold, she lives on hold.
    What is she trying to save me from?
    Blindspot in the adjacent lot,
    waiting for my time to come.
    I won't wait in this line.
    I've got nothing left in me.
    My weight on your shifting spine.
    I fuck up and you fabricate me.

    Gray days on paper plates,
    our vibrations collide.
    Arcane, sister's a saint.
    She sets herself aside.
    Pitfall, publish, appall,
    I fall down right in the street.
    You blow smoke, you sugarcoat,
    then you take a front row seat.
    And I think I've had enough.
    I'm not listening to it.
    Lay all of your cards on the table.
    I know that you'd take every bit.

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    I won't wait in this line.
    Sooner or later it goes awry.
    And you live your life like a chore
    and I'm not listening anymore.

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