Scott Street

Scott Street

Phoebe Bridgers

Walking Scott Street, feeling like a stranger
With an open heart, open container
I’ve got a stack of mail and a tall can
It’s a shower beer it’s a payment plan

There’s helicopters over my head
Every night when I go to bed
Spending money and I earned it
When I’m lonely, that’s when I’ll burn it

Do you feel ashamed
When you hear my name

I asked you: How is your sister?
I heard she got her degree
And I said: That makes me feel old
You said: What does that make me?

I asked you: How is playing drums?
You said it’s too much shit to carry
And what about the band?
You said they’re all getting married

Do you feel ashamed
When you hear my name

Anyway, don’t be a stranger
Anyway, don’t be a stranger
Don’t be a stranger

Killer

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