Superficial - Aynsley Lister

There's a man with a squeegie in his hand Washing away the dirt of yesterdays life As I make my way through the morning rush Of suits trying to make their 8:45

I wake up Put on my clothes Contemplate the daily load Draw the curtains Make my bed Search for a pill for my aching head Once again Walk the streets with nowhe

I remember when I remember I remember when I lost my mind There was something so pleasant about that place Even your emotions have an echo in so much space And

So it seems you did enough All the credit you pick up Everything that I got you sure are doing pretty well I bet you've got a duvet of money on which you lay yo