Records To Your Rivals

about this song

Got a hole in your pocket, lost a fortune in change Isn't that your guardian angel who's caught on a weather vane There's a growing collection of every perfect miss A handful of consolations if you go out like this But you don't lend records to your rivals And you don't sweat a second downward spiral What you're leaving for dead don't deserve survival If you're wounded, you haven't even looked yet... You can't draw attention if you're covering up

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