S.O.S. Lyrics – Art Morera
Singer: Art Morera
Title: S.O.S.
Cast iron on the camp fire
He’s in the mountains with a flat tire last I heard
Check your sources, they some bad liars
In the vocal booth is proof of what transpired
Make some noise and get them hands higher
For the nights that you were bluer than a sapphire
Now my pockets greener than The Shire
But no money will let my play an ocarina back to my priors
To the days I wasn’t linking up with grass buyers
Jacked up on coffee til I crash tired
Shout out my brother Maschmeyer
I keep that hairbrush by an ottoman by a stack of flyers
That I put in a bag when a fan buy a shirt
No return address for secret admirers
In search of a place peaceful and quieter
Briefly found it with this chick I’m dating but I’m tired of her
Am I wrong or is this sounding like the same old song?
Over and over and over again
Over again
It’s the same old song
Replaying in my head over and over and over again
Squeeze firebirds
I’ve been breeding them since Heidelberg
Say that I’m the worst
Funny how a lil wave became a tidal surge that I’mma surf
WVTCHWXLVEZ spelled wrong 900% on the title search
Been a lot of work
Find hand-me-down guns, hope this fire work
Very little guns sound like fireworks
Still got that fire work
That’s normal, ain’t no Art beat that I ain’t murk
Lil shy invert
Throwing up 2 middle fingers to the sky til I am murked
Am I wrong or is this sounding like the same old song?
Over and over and over again
Over again
It’s the same old song
Replaying in my head over and over and over again
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Lyrics Art Morera – S.O.S.
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