Cult - Breathe
I don’t wanna be myself
Yeah, baby, I just wanna run
You gotta breathe, you bastard, breathe
Whoa yeah, breathe, you bastard, breathe
Straight into the sun, oh
Fifty-five thousand flowers for the hero
Scattered at his feet to satisfy his ego
Fifty-five thousand flowers for the hero
Scattered at his feet to satisfy his ego
I shot the sun
This tear of god
I shot the sun, baby
I don’t wanna be myself
Well, baby, I just wanna run, oh
You gotta breathe, you bastard, breathe
Whoa yeah, breathe, you bastard, breathe
Straight into the sun
Fifty-five thousand flowers for the hero
Scattered at his feet to satisfy his ego
Fifty-five thousand flowers for the hero
Scattered at his feet to satisfy his ego
I shot the sun, oh, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah
This tear of god, this tear of god
I shot the sun, baby, oh
This tear of god
A fact of life for all to see
That every heart’s a part of me
A fact of life for all to see
That every heart’s a part of me
Whoa, whoa yeah, yeah, whoa yeah
Fifty-five thousand flowers for the hero
Scattered at his feet to satisfy his ego
Fifty-five thousand flowers for the hero
Scattered at his feet to satisfy his ego
Fifty-five thousand flowers for the hero
Scattered at his feet to satisfy his ego
Fifty-five thousand flowers for the hero
Scattered at his feet to satisfy his ego
And I shot the sun
And I shot the sun
And I shot the sun, baby
And I shot the sun, oh yeah
Breathe you bastard, breathe
Fifty-five thousand flowers for the hero
Scattered at his feet to satisfy his ego