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• Artiste: Blake Mills
• Titre: Press My Luck
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When you moved you made me Clean up after your ass And under all that clutter Was straight-up broken glass Don't worry I won't press my luck I know things get clearer When they're fucked Another wildfire season Ripping through the face I'm almost getting used to The futuristic hellscapes Don't worry I won't press my luck Things start getting clearer When they're fucked Robot arms can't hold me The healing was a scam And someone checks my vitals But think I'm dying, man Don't worry I won't press my luck I know things get clearer When they're fucked When you moved you left me Burned another bridge Carloads off to donate Fucking garbage in the fridge Don't worry I won't press my luck No Things start getting clearer When they're fucked