Playing Tennis

Playing Tennis

Austin Prince

I can’t write to a beat
I wish I was better at playing guitar
Wish all my words came out as poetry
And I could spend all of my time making art

Singing new songs, playing tennis
Reading fiction painting pictures of how it was
How It was

If I could rearrange my thoughts
If I could contain my emotions
If I could make it stop
Don’t you think I’d make It?

If I could rearrange my thoughts
If I could contain my emotions
If I could make it stop
Don’t you think I’d make it?

Sad days turn to cold nights
When I’m in a bad way and act up
But still, you try to hold space when I don’t act right
In a cold way, I try to back up

But you don’t let me walk away
You hold me tight until it fades
And you don’t let me walk away
You hold me tight until the morning

And you don’t let me walk away
You hold me tight until it fades, yea
And you don’t let me walk away, ey
You hold me tight until the morning

Let me walk away, but you don’t let me walk
Let me walk away, but you don’t let me walk

Let me walk away, but you don’t let me walk
Let me walk away, but you don’t let me walk, oh-oh

Playing Tennis

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