Brooklyn Gamma
It ain't as good as it gets
If you got holes all over your chest
My best day's your worst day
"Worst day" is my best phrase
That's just what I get
Rope squeezin' my neck
The things that I forget
Lost in my hotel room
Ocean on its way back soon
That's what we get
Flies licking my face
All bets are closed off on in this race
Break ground, start again
Break ground, start again
Get what we can get
Poison on my plate
I'm lovin' all the same
There's hands on my wrist
In the form of a fist
In the form of a kiss
Light up the sky
Showing off your bed
Showing up and get dead
Cut open the clone
Whose wearing all my clothes
Well, that's just what I get
It ain't as good as it gets
If you got holes all over your head
Window on my table
Window in the rearview
And in the palm of my hand in the form of a fist
And leave some room for the lucky ones
Seal our tomb with gifts of gold and brass and bone
Leave some room for the lucky ones
And seal our tomb with gifts of gold
Light up the sky
Ooh, light up the sky
Light up the sky
Light up the sky
Ooh, light up the sky
Light up the sky
Ooh, light up the sky
Light up the sky
Light up the sky
Ooh, light up the sky
And leave some room for the lucky ones
Ooh, light up the sky
And leave some room for the lucky ones
Ooh