Rich Kids Blues
by Lykke Li

Bubble, bubble straight to my head
The richer, the ?, I believe in the liar
You're bringin' trouble, trouble back in my bed
When nobody can save me 'cause the smoke is my baby, baby

Mama, I got your white lie ways
Mama, there's nothing you can do or say

I got the rich kid's blues and they got nothing to do with you
I got the rich kid's blues and I'm not sure that I'm pulling through

Why you, why you over my head?
Mama, she told me keep your eyes on the trophy
And the sighing, sighing is out of your bed
For delirious gestures are so easily misread

Mama, got your white lie taste
Mama, there's nothing you can do or say

I got the rich kid's blues and they got nothing to do with you
I got the rich kid's blues and I'm not sure that I'm pulling through
I got the rich kid's blues and they got nothing to do with you
I got the rich kid's blues and I'm not sure that I'm pulling through
I got the rich kid's blues

Mama, got your white lie ways
Mama, got the rich kid's blues
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written by Zachrisson, Lykke Li Timotej / Yttling, Bj�rn Daniel Arne
Lyrics © EMI Music Publishing