Power-Hour
de Ty Segall
I woke up this morning and i hit a wall
In my head i began to crawl
To the nearest infirmary
And to a doctor i would see
He asked me what, what was wrong
And so i told him my problem
I'm sick of the trophies
I'm sick of the kids
I'm sick of the kits with the ten dollar bips
I'm sick of the dresses
I'm sick of the hats
I'm sick of the glasses with the painted on maps
I'm sick of the man I'm sick of the dog
I'm sick of the place with the fuckin fog
I'm sick of you I'm sick of me
I'm sick of everything i can see
Breathe the air, feel the sun don't ya know
I am with you
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Would You Be My Love
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Feel
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Time
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My Lady's On Fire
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Finger
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My Head Explodes
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You Make The Sun Fry
Goodbye Bread