Lost Art Of Murder

Roll a four, roll a nine
Find yourself washed up in paradise
Like before you didn't mind
Someone else washed up in paradise, everydayWhat a nice day for a murder
Yourself a killer but the only thing you're killing is your time
There's nothing absurder than a burd'
It's a burden to your heart, soul, body, spirit and mindDon't look back at me like that, she won't take you back
I said too much, been too unkind
Get off your back, stop smoking that
Change your life, just might change her mind, her mindRoll a four, roll a nine
Find yourself washed up in paradise
All the fours to all the nines
I lost my phone in paradise, pay as you goWhat a nice day for a murder
Say you're a killer, I think you're killing is time
There's nothing absurder than a burd'
It's a burden to your heart, soul, body, spirit and mindOh, don't look at me like that, she won't take you back
Done too much, been too unkind
Get up off your back, stop smoking that
Change your life, think it'll change her mindDon't look at me like that, she won't take you back
Said too much, been too unkind
Get up off your back, stop smoking that
Change your life, just might change her mind