Did The Cubs Just Win The World Series?

I let my hair down, again
I feel relaxed, my hands grip
Less in air that's colder

Basing off
Of things I can't afford
I can feel the way a bank account is poorly painted
Red right by a store

You let your face fall, again
You feel my hands across
Your skin as you roll over

I slept it off
You can't understand control
Over confidence diluted
I'm not upset anymore
I just feel sore