Rich Kids Blues

Rich Kids Blues
Bubble, Bubble straight to my head
The richer, the drier, i believe in the liar.
Bringing trouble, trouble back in my bed
Where nobody can save me
'Cause the smoke is my baby, baby

Mama, I got your wild eyed ways
Mama, there's nothing you can do or say

I got the rich kid's blues and it got nothing to do with you
I got the rich kid's blues and I'm not sure that I'm pulling through

Wire wire over my head?
Mama, she told me "keep your eyes on the trophy"
And the sires, sires outta your bed
For delirious gestures are so easily misread

Mama, I got your wild eyed taste
Mama, there's nothing you can do or say

I got the rich kid's blues and it got nothing to do with you
I got the rich kid's blues and I'm not sure that I'm pulling through
I got the rich kid's blues and it got nothing to do with you
I got the rich kid's blues and I'm not sure that I'm pulling through

Mama, I got the rich kid's blues
Mama, got your white lie ways
Mama, got the rich kid's blues
Lykke Li - wounded rhytmes
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