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Young Andrew - Old Habits Lyrics



Young Andrew - Old Habits Lyrics




A collector of all things desecration
To fashion a rosary like disease
Fell far away, out of earshot, from the family tree
Severed limbs and crippled spine
Not quite my father's child

No, no sir
I do not cry wolf
I'm witness to bloody murder
My eyes still itching from the wool

Not quite my father's child
No, no sir
Not my father's child
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A collector of all things desecration
To fashion a rosary like disease
Fell far away, out of earshot, from the family tree
Severed limbs and crippled spine
Not quite my father's child

No, no sir
I do not cry wolf
I'm witness to bloody murder
My eyes still itching from the wool

Not quite my father's child
No, no sir
Not my father's child
[ Correct these Lyrics ]
Writer: Christopher Throckmorton, Jordan Bullock, Justin Jackson, Robert Hilliard
Copyright: Lyrics © O/B/O DistroKid

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