Empty Pocket - Chords

They told me save it for a rainy day

But man you gotta pay to play

And gradually it fades away

I’m always on a paper chase

Summer days I marinate

And swimming in the baby rays

Winter nights black alike

Cuts me up like razor blades

Still the fucking bills are stacking

Higher in the pills in the fridge this makes me tired

Throw a log on the fire hold it off for a while

I’m scrapping to make the ends mean

Mitsubishi rolling on empty

Slanging and starting attempting

Change doesn’t come, changes are made

Maybe a month, maybe a day

Maybe a week or until maybe I’m paid

Top it up, give 'em a shade

Making it rain,

Praying that this time it works

And the money we’ll take away pain

Where nothing has changed, ain’t it insane

Tired of always fucking around

Living at the mount

I’m on top till I’m gone

Everything I put in there

Always disappears

Like my pocket hole

They told me money doesn’t grow on trees

But loves to be in pyramids

Oversee our over seas

Keep up your appearances

Keep on interfering

Nothing had to fear but fear itself

Get your education up

Professor amenities

The fuck our ounce bout to expire

And I need it 'cause this coffee gets me wild

Keeps me up when I’m tired

Feels like I’m stuck in a spiral

Spinning around figuring out

When to get off when to get down

Stuck in a world sent it around

Dollars and euros and pounds and crowns

Problems are yours milling around

Everything goes

But you at the bottom and them at the top

Just counting the gold to get in your lines

Stay in your place do as you’re told

Just stay on your toes down in the cold

Tired of always fucking around

Living at the mount

I’m on top till I’m gone

Everything I put in there

Always disappears

Like my pocket hole

Trying to get my mind

Before this money I ain’t making

Money I ain’t making

Money I ain’t making

Trying to get my mind

Before this money I ain’t making

Money I ain’t making

Money I ain’t making

Trying to get my mind

Before this money I ain’t making

Money I ain’t making

Money I ain’t making

Tired of always fucking around

Living at the mount

I’m on top till I’m gone

Everything I put in there

Always disappears

Like my pocket hole