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

Digging Up the Graves

Far too many times you hold and tow the line 
Even when you're caught finding out how bad it can be. 
And you get brought down to your knees. 

Well I heard you got a thirst for truth 
My friends have got some work for you 
You may be gone a day or two and awake with the rising sun. 
Might even get to hold a gun. 

That's the way we're paid: 
Diggin up the graves. 
La di da di da 
La di da di da. 

So it might seem like your work's cut out 
And your judgement may cloud up with doubt 
But when that feedback makes that moanin sound 
Bet your lips will curl to a smile 
And you'll feel lost for a while. 

Then you'll be prayin for the seventh curse, 
For the river to run in reverse 
Cause everything always gets worse 
Before it ends. 
And the last S.O.S. gets sent. 

That's the way we're paid: 
Diggin up the graves. 
La di da di da 
La di da di da. 

Now don't ask how we came up with it 
Just shut your mouth and read the script 
Another diplomat gets blown to bits 
And then, the picture's gonna fade 
Smile, babe, we're all "self made" 

And there ain't nothin but fake gold and jewels 
In the hearts of those that follow you 
But without us, how could you, how could you... 
How could you get along? 
C'mon, have we ever steered you wrong? 

That's the way we're paid: 
Diggin up the graves. 
La di da di da 
La di da di da. 

That's the way we're paid: 
Diggin up the graves.

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