Too Real - Fontaines D.C.

None can pull the passion loose from youth’s ungrateful hands

As it stands, I’m about to make a lot of money

Gold harps in the pan

None can revolution lead with selfish needs aside

As I cried, I’m about to make a lot of money

Gold harps on the side

Is it too real for ya?

Is it too real for ya?

Is it too real for ya?

Is it too real?

The winter evening settles down

The bruised and beat up open sky, six o’clock

The city in its final dress

And now a gusty shower wraps the grimy scraps

Of withered leaves all about your feet

And then the wringing of a twitching hand

Six o’clock, six o’clock

Is it too real for ya?

Is it too real for ya?

Is it too real for ya?

Is it too real?

Is it too real for ya?

Is it too real for ya?

Is it too real for ya?

Is it too real for ya?

None can pull the passion loose from youth’s ungrateful hands

As it stands, I’m about to make a lot of money

Gold harps in the pan

None can revolution lead with selfish needs aside

As I climbed, I’m about to make a lot of money

Goes around and around and around

Oh yeah, boya

Is it too real for ya?

Is it too real for ya?

Is it too real for ya?

Is it too real for ya?

Is it too real for ya?

Is it too real for ya?

Is it too real for ya?

Is it too real for ya?