Work, work work work, work work work
It's all about work, work work work, work work work
It's all about work, work work work, work work work
It's all about work, work work work, work work work
Hey, I never wanna be a millionaire
But I could use a break
You've had me pumpin' iron
Workin' the mines from the night until the break of day
Baby, shackles on my ankles
Your ropes 'round my hands
This ain't some kind of game
Cause, you're too tired for that
Why do I have to always pick up
The pieces of your heart, yet (Hey!)
Why do you always have to be
So derogatory and tear me apart (Hey!)
My friends all think we are in love
Reading horoscopes like they were gospel
[?]
Slum Love
Some kind of Slum Love
Some kind of Slum Love
Some kind of Slum Love
(Whoa!)
I never wanted a Utopia
But [?] it denies
It's like I'm walking the wire
You keep feeding the fire with
Your [?]
You're a little bit older
But that don't mean a thing
We still bicker like children
That wake up and do it all again
Why do I always have to be the
Heroine or the Rescuer
Why do I always fall for you when
You're making breakfast or driving my car
They promised us the world, they told us
We'd find love; unconditional
Maybe I should just count my lucky stars
And be glad I have someone
When I shout, you've learned to scream (Ah!)
Toxic passion, then epiphany Oh, Oh, Oh
Slum Love
Some kind of Slum Love
Some kind of Slum Love
Some kind of Slum Love
compositores: Fagan Wilcox, Kimbra Lee Johnson
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