Lyrics Dried Like Prunes - Reece Fuller

I'm feeling like shite I wanna jus turn on my side
But getting old bites, sold another sprite
Buying my time with a shift I don't like
Biding my life, gotta pay the bills

Gotta get a ticket, gotta tally up a skill
Gunna grow wrinkles with a bitter so shrill
Every other second like I wanna pop pills
Foamin at the mouth from the trauma, trauma

Hospital visits, I don't wanna, wanna
Self-medicate with marijuana, often
Killin braincells til the coffin, proppin
Cardboard scenery gets chewed by the script

Life's a limp-dick, made for limp-dicks
To geriatric and never bury the hatchet
To match it, most meatheads you meet
Want your weed or your skills or golden ticket receipt, it's weak