beaches are for people who like the beach and i do not like the beach Songtext
von american poetry club

I feel gross
And overall just funny
This summer I made some money
Can I use that to feel better?
I made french toast
The eggs they turned out sunny
Mix my sugar with my honey
Do whatever I think I want to


I feel gross
And I don′t want to get better
Wrap myself up in this sweater
Do whatever the fuck I want to
Do whatever the fuck I want to

(Do you know what hurts the most, Joan?
This nail I just stepped on
But there's a metaphorical nail in my other foot
That hurts the second most
And it′s from you backstabbing me
So maybe instead of the nail metaphor
I should have used a stabbing metaphor
But it's too late for that now, isn't it?)
(I guess it is)