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Saints - Alice Kristiansen
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Saints - Alice Kristiansen
Late night, blurry vision
You and me back in this position
Hang tight, baby listen
When you wanna leave, take me by the wrist
And let’s go missing
Fall into your bed with that hunger in your eyes
I can only pray your roommate took her Ambien tonight

Folks can call us juvenile, we can call them jealous
We believe that staying young’s a choice
No matter what they tell us
No matter what they tell us

They say what, what a shame
But we ain’t the kind to go and change
We stay astray misbehave nowadays
Cuz we ain’t tryna be saints
Cuz we ain’t tryna be, tryna be saints
Cuz we ain’t tryna be, tryna be saints

Slow dance on the bleachers
I love it when you’re smoking in that old Nirvana t-shirt
Slow jams on your broken speakers
Life and times of the dreamers and the simple creatures
Fill your paper coffee cups with seven dollar wine
Your roommate’s probably praying that we’ll sleep at mine tonight
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