Six feet tall too small of a dress, I'm contagious, you're a mess, I'm patient enough
Friday night again, I've got drunk friends, drawn on faces of useless mannequins They're all taking pictures of themselves
Maybe stationary evidence telling us to remain reverent, But it's myself I'm worshiping
Xanax, Xanax on the wall, please return my momma home, Trim away what's underneath
What's underneath?
I want a son to say his name
I want a house to paint the windows
Our river overflows with pouring rain
I want this life to be kind again
Wood is patient
Would you like it? I think I would come on sugar taste my tongue
Taxpayers and modern medicine, I feel too worthless to touch your face
Would you like it? I think I would, girl it's bitter taste my sugar addiction fade
I can read someday...
I want a son to say his name
I want a house to paint the windows
Our river overflows with pouring rain
I want this life to be kind again
Charlie Paso - I'm Contagious, Yr a Mess Lyrics
Charlie Paso - I'm Contagious, Yr a Mess Lyrics
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Six feet tall too small of a dress, I'm contagious, you're a mess, I'm patient enough
Friday night again, I've got drunk friends, drawn on faces of useless mannequins They're all taking pictures of themselves
Maybe stationary evidence telling us to remain reverent, But it's myself I'm worshiping
Xanax, Xanax on the wall, please return my momma home, Trim away what's underneath
What's underneath?
I want a son to say his name
I want a house to paint the windows
Our river overflows with pouring rain
I want this life to be kind again
Wood is patient
Would you like it? I think I would come on sugar taste my tongue
Taxpayers and modern medicine, I feel too worthless to touch your face
Would you like it? I think I would, girl it's bitter taste my sugar addiction fade
I can read someday...
I want a son to say his name
I want a house to paint the windows
Our river overflows with pouring rain
I want this life to be kind again
Friday night again, I've got drunk friends, drawn on faces of useless mannequins They're all taking pictures of themselves
Maybe stationary evidence telling us to remain reverent, But it's myself I'm worshiping
Xanax, Xanax on the wall, please return my momma home, Trim away what's underneath
What's underneath?
I want a son to say his name
I want a house to paint the windows
Our river overflows with pouring rain
I want this life to be kind again
Wood is patient
Would you like it? I think I would come on sugar taste my tongue
Taxpayers and modern medicine, I feel too worthless to touch your face
Would you like it? I think I would, girl it's bitter taste my sugar addiction fade
I can read someday...
I want a son to say his name
I want a house to paint the windows
Our river overflows with pouring rain
I want this life to be kind again
Writer: Duncan McDonald
Copyright: Lyrics © O/B/O DistroKid
Copyright: Lyrics © O/B/O DistroKid