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letra de fix my blues - adam green

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ain’t i fair, ain’t i kind
and i’m payed to feel fine
but i haven’t spent a dime
since i met you

your br–sts are like two wrists
that i’ve handcuffed to my d-ck
in a subculture of love and refraction

but i die every morning again
me at my worst is fun for them
and i die with a feeding tube
while you try to fix my blues

your city is so unclean
in a washington machine
and your face like a cage
and two of them

and your sentiment is gone
and your now enslaved by gods
while strum my broken legs like a banjo

but i die every morning again
mе at my worst is fun for them
and i die with a feeding tube
whilе you try to fix my blues
but when i feel my heart retract into my soul
it makes an ego seem more valuable than gold

and i die every morning again
me at my worst is fun for them
and i die with a feeding tube
while you try to fix my blues

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