I'm so sick of you
I'm so sick of me
I don't want to be with you
I'm so sick of you
I'm so sick of me
I don't want to be with you
I want to fly away
I want to fly away
I'm so sick of work
I'm so sick of play
I don't need another day
I'm so sick of work
I'm so sick of play
I don't need another day
I need a hideaway
I need a hideaway
every shiny toy that at first brings you joy
will always start to cloy and annoy
every camera, every phone, all the music that you own
won't change the fact you're all alone
every piece of land, every city that you plan
will crumble into tiny grains of sand
everything you buy that at first seems to shine
always turns into the same old grind
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