Cold Win

[Verse 1: Ghostpoet]

So a crunching bird flu signals another day

Boss thinks I'm stubborn eh, but I wish she would button it

New kicks, loving it, took me like two months

But big things from cold feet, one squashed like butternut

Outside the double dutch kiddies wait for chicken fix

And I hate the lunch run, six months I'm out of here

Saving up the pennies cos the city's too gritty

And cooking french fries ain't pretty

[Hook: Ghostpoet]

Can someone show me the way?

I don't know this place

I rose awake in a dream

I need to go back before the sun goes down on my heart

Before the sun goes down on my heart

All my clothes smell of grease

A night on holiday

Break my back all week for

Crumbs and abuse

And I swear what's the use?

Quick sip of Lucozade to pep up the bones

And amp up Ramones

And volume maximum

I'm feeling like Maximus

You know in that film? Film4 Tuesdays

And highlight of the wicked week

Complain til [?] bleak or some navy blue

I don't know you

[Hook - Ghostpoet] x 2