The Streets
Shake Hands With Shadows
I don't see it’s anybody's business but my own
Shake hands with shadows an hour before dawn
Wake me up before the talking turns into walking
Electric tobacco smoke gone in a genie
The Drake and the drill songs and the aching bank accounts
Time turns to business, I look for a way out
I should walk my way out
Shake hands with shadows an hour before dawn
The puppeteer pulls strings in the carnival of life
I don't see it’s anybody's business but my own
Confetti celebrating and showering haters
She don't look your way in case you say something to her
Chasing redemption plays on the system
Sponsored by low-hanging fruit-flavoured vodka
I shake hands with shadows an hour before dawn
I shake hands with shadows an hour before dawn
They chase trends in fashion while their landlords call
They shake the club with anthems, the realities are raw
Take the role of gangsters where you may not have form
I shake hands with shadows an hour before dawn
Aching hands gather the dourest corn
Fake bands of misfits bent into a crawl
You waste moments with laughter as friendships fall
Shake hands with shadows an hour before dawn
When you make plans with morons
You're powerless to misfortune
Make deals in the atmosphere that tries to forewarn you
Take command as your backbone's feeling drawn
I shake hands with shadows an hour before dawn
Breaking bread with the mandem's what the alcohol's for
Fake a poker face and drop the face of scorn
When you take chances with substances
Caution is warned
I shake hands with shadows an hour before dawn
Stake everything on an eleventh hour score
Play a game of chess but prepare to be a pawn
When you take in attention, be prepared to be ignored
I shake hands with shadows an hour before dawn
They chase trends in fashion while their landlords call
They shake the club with anthems, the realities are raw
You take the role of gangsters where you may not have form