Matt Monta
Matt Monta
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  • Home
  • Music
    • Restless Disposition
    • American Rhymin
    • Where You Find Love
    • Motion EP
  • Lyrics
  • Press
  • Photos
  • About
  • Videos
  • Blog
  • Contact

Countin Blues

Sand and oil stickin in the spinnin engine blades 
Sun so hot it's been rising for days 
You count the holes for the laces in your shoes 
When there's bombs goin off and there's nothin to do 

And ya 1, 2, 3, 4, and 5 
All good children stay alive 
Ya 6, 7, 8, 9, 10 
Ain't nobody comin back again 

There's echoes in your ears of the whispers in the alley 
Notchin with your knife as you burn up the day's tally 
And ya count down the marks that you made out of fear 
When there's bombs goin off and ya pluggin your ears 

And ya 1, 2, 3, 4, and 5 
All good children stay alive 
Ya 6, 7, 8, 9, 10 
Ain't nobody comin back again 

The butcher's boys are holdin out mirrors from the shadows 
And your wonderin why they're out there since ya three months from the gallows 
And ya count the copper shells flyin outta your gun 
When there's bombs goin off and ya shootin for fun 

And ya 1, 2, 3, 4, and 5 
All good children stay alive 
Ya 6, 7, 8, 9, 10 
Ain't none of us comin back again

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