This is my cross to bear My bar to clear Love my stupid filth Love my stupid phone calls They tend to look alike For 100 hundred fucking years, babe Everyone's a fuck Phone home
It's only curses pointing
Listen, Atlanta I can sing by myself (Believe that the silverware will bend) Forsyth county, I can sing by myself
Hear the storm sirens on a sunny day You walk out just to feel the wind Singing frog syndrome You never could keep your mouth shut
