Lola Young

Messy

Lola Young


You know I'm impatient
So why would you leave me waiting outside the station?
When it was like minus 4 degrees and I
I get what you're saying
I just really don't want to hear it right now
Can you shut up for like once in your life?
Listen to me
I took your nice words of advice about
How you think I'm gonna die
Lucky if I turned 33
Okay, so yeah, I smoke like a chimney
I'm not skinny and I pull a Britney
Every other week
But cut me some slack
Who do you want me to be?

'Cause I'm too messy
And then I'm too fucking clean
You told me, "Get a job"
And you ask where the hell I've been
And I'm too perfect
'Til I open my big mouth
I want to be me
Is that not allowed?
And I'm too clever
And then I'm too fucking dumb
You hate it when I cry
Unless it's that time of the month
And I'm too perfect
'Til I show you that I'm not
A thousand people I could be for you
And you hate the fucking lot
You hate the fucking lot
You hate the fucking lot
Hey, hey

It's taking you ages
You still don't get the hint
I'm not asking for pages
But one text or two would be nice
And please, don't pull those faces
When I've been out working my arse off all day
It's just one bottle of wine or two
But hey, you can't even talk
You smoke weed just to help you sleep
Then why you're out getting stoned at 4 o'clock
And then you come home to me
And don't say hello
'Cause I got high again
And forgot to fold my clothes


'Cause I'm too messy
And then I'm too fucking clean
You told me, "Get a job"
And you ask where the hell I've been
And I'm too perfect
'Til I open my big mouth
I want to be me
Is that not allowed?
And I'm too clever
And then I'm too fucking dumb
You hate it when I cry
Unless it's that time of the month
And I'm too perfect
'Til I show you that I'm not
A thousand people I could be for you
And you hate the fucking lot
You hate the fucking lot
You hate the fucking lot



And I'm too messy
And then I'm too fucking clean
You told me, "Get a job"
And you ask where the hell I've been
And I'm too perfect
'Til I open my big mouth
I want to be me
Is that not allowed?
And I'm too clever
And then I'm too fucking dumb
You hate it when I cry
Unless it's that time of the month
And I'm too perfect
'Til I show you that I'm not
A thousand people I could be for you
And you hate the fucking lot


You hate the fucking lot
You hate the fucking lot
You hate the fucking lot
You hate the fucking lot

Compositores: Lola Emily Mary Young, Conor Luke Dickinson (Conor Dickinson)
ECAD: Obra #43714230

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