I'm breaking bad, I'm breaking good
I'm breaking up in a lovely green wood
I'm breaking my heart with my own hand
These thoughts of mine are like sinking sand
Rolling weed never rolling slow
Rolling river's where the drunk's piss goes
Too many techniques in my poetry book
As profound as you like but you'll need a little catchy hook
Trouble my teacher, trouble my nurse
Troubled flowers bless and curse the hearse
Worse I understand; back of my hand
Castles and kingdoms on weak and shifting sand
I'm sick of God, I'm sick of me
I'm sick of the apples up in the tree
I'm sick of the snakes and I'm sick of the sea
I don't understand any of them could have been me
I'm breaking bad, I'm breaking good
I'm breaking up in a lovely green wood
I'm breaking my heart with my own hand
These thoughts of mine are like sinking sand
Rob Marenghi - Potential Love Disaster Blues Lyrics
Rob Marenghi - Potential Love Disaster Blues Lyrics
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I'm breaking bad, I'm breaking good
I'm breaking up in a lovely green wood
I'm breaking my heart with my own hand
These thoughts of mine are like sinking sand
Rolling weed never rolling slow
Rolling river's where the drunk's piss goes
Too many techniques in my poetry book
As profound as you like but you'll need a little catchy hook
Trouble my teacher, trouble my nurse
Troubled flowers bless and curse the hearse
Worse I understand; back of my hand
Castles and kingdoms on weak and shifting sand
I'm sick of God, I'm sick of me
I'm sick of the apples up in the tree
I'm sick of the snakes and I'm sick of the sea
I don't understand any of them could have been me
I'm breaking bad, I'm breaking good
I'm breaking up in a lovely green wood
I'm breaking my heart with my own hand
These thoughts of mine are like sinking sand
I'm breaking up in a lovely green wood
I'm breaking my heart with my own hand
These thoughts of mine are like sinking sand
Rolling weed never rolling slow
Rolling river's where the drunk's piss goes
Too many techniques in my poetry book
As profound as you like but you'll need a little catchy hook
Trouble my teacher, trouble my nurse
Troubled flowers bless and curse the hearse
Worse I understand; back of my hand
Castles and kingdoms on weak and shifting sand
I'm sick of God, I'm sick of me
I'm sick of the apples up in the tree
I'm sick of the snakes and I'm sick of the sea
I don't understand any of them could have been me
I'm breaking bad, I'm breaking good
I'm breaking up in a lovely green wood
I'm breaking my heart with my own hand
These thoughts of mine are like sinking sand
Writer: Robert Marenghi
Copyright: Lyrics © O/B/O DistroKid, Sentric Music
Copyright: Lyrics © O/B/O DistroKid, Sentric Music