Fly - Low, King Britt

I thought we had it made up

After all we had to pay up

Keep it knocking on the cellar

That’s no way to earn a dollar

But I don’t know

And I don’t mind

Leave my weary bones

And fly

You’re telling me just one more

I keep it like it’s torture

Keep my body like a soldier

You gotta tell me when it’s over

But I don’t know

And I don’t mind

Take my weary bones

And fly

Fly

Fly

Fly

Fly

Fly

Fly

Fly

Fly