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letra de crybaby - kid dingo

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[verse 1]
uh
my main girl stays icy at me, say that i’ve been distant and i don’t treat her quite like rap
my side girl stays silent, she’s the quiet type because she doesn’t exist, i’m nice like that
clap clap, pat on the back for the boy who’s nice and who booked his own flights down from the hilltop
if a funky joint drops in the middle of the forest with no one around to hear it does a funky joint still drop?
if a nice boy is nice in the middle of the forest with no one around to be nice to, is a boy still nice?
i’m no philosopher, but i think that that depends on if the boy is in the forest of his own device

[pre-chorus]
it’s a lie
you can lie to yourself if you try
whatever if it helps you get by
and when you feel the clouds in your eyes

[chorus]
you can cry, baby, cry
’till the sun wakes up the morning sky
but don’t ask “why, baby, why
isn’t my pillow dry?”

[verse 2]
so go ahead do what you need to do –
call your friend to the pub, hug, by yourself a jug
by yourself some wacky t-shirts with animals on ’em
to prove you’re individual you can buy yourself love
but by yourself, love’s got very little to do with funny animal shirts and poking holes in your skin
my body rejected all of my piercings, i guess it caught me tryna change myself from the outside in
see i’ve been howling at the moon too long, and the world’s moved on to a new song
less that the song’s queer but more that the tune’s wrong
you can do whatever you want

[pre-chorus]
but you’re gonna realise
you can lie to yourself if you try
whatever if it helps you get by
and when you feel the clouds in your eyes

[chorus]
you can cry, baby, cry
’till the sun wakes up the morning sky
but don’t ask “why, baby, why
isn’t my pillow dry?”

[verse 3]
better believe i had help from the daddy fat sax
and the gypsy that hipped me up to some life game
and the gypsy with no name, the buggy-eyed chancellor
and the man who saw the future out the window of a plane
the pharaoh that stood out like a scarecrow pointed down the yellow brick road to head me down the right lane
somehow, despite it, i’m lost in the rogaine
howling at the moon: “if i only had my own brain”

sometimes there are other factors
sometimes there’s floods on the pillows and drought on the mattress
and you can’t strike a light with the best of matches
sometimes students don’t practice
sometimes the people that you surround yourself with are just trendoids and actors
sometimes the pack just paint their attackers as moustache twirlers and cacklers, bolt report watchers and anti-vaxxers whimper at the moon and fancy themselves hapless
sometimes the streams run backwards
sometimes your dreams run straight off the axis, and the weight of the world is left weighing on your shoulders like –
sometimes you run into cliches used by other rappers
so run from the city to where it’s pretty, crack out the connector-pens and scribble on the atlas
sometimes inner city hipsters like to dress like backpackers

[pre-chorus]
it’s a lie
you can lie to yourself if you try
whatever if it helps you get by
and when you feel the clouds in your eyes

[chorus]
you can cry, baby, cry (no, no, no, no, woah)
till the sun wakes up the morning sky (wakes up the morning sky)
but don’t ask “why, baby, why (baby, why?)
isn’t my pillow dry?” (woah, woah, oh oh oh oh oh woah)

[chorus]
you can cry, baby, cry (baby cry)
till the sun wakes up the morning sky (woohoo) (wakes up the morning sky)
but don’t ask “why, baby, why
isn’t my pillow dry?” (uhuhuh woah hmm)

boy, you gotta take some responsibility!

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