| Abby listen to the click of the
|
| Fluorescence I found in sweet sad mouth
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| Weather was the Indian way
|
| I bet you never have drove.
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| (And run on to the village) I’ll follow.
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| ('Cause happiness ain’t bein') a swallow.
|
| (Am I late instead,
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| When you wake up late.
|
| Found your Velcro shoes,
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| It’s a holiday.
|
| And run on to the village, I’ll follow.
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| 'Cause happiness ain’t bein' a swallow.)
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| I’m tired, faint
|
| On the old
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| Beware, it’s there, she’s here, smile
|
| You’ll find reasons,
|
| To power all the seasons.
|
| Power hope infuses the blood
|
| The child dies.
|
| (Don't you worry, I’m your brother,
|
| Finch rise early, but you’ll recover.
|
| I said, I said, I said, I said
|
| Ma ma ma ma, ma ma ma ma
|
| Ma ma ma ma, ma ma)
|
| Look who’s got a beautiful place
|
| On the Avenue Saigon.
|
| Usually we have socks
|
| And my compass to outdoor.
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| (And crouch under a bush) like a mate-uh,
|
| ('Cause happiness ain’t lovin') it’s winter.
|
| (On a summer day,
|
| There’s a village way.
|
| And the leaves are golden
|
| And the trees are colder.
|
| And crouch under a bush like a mate-uh,
|
| 'Cause happiness ain’t lovin' it’s winter.)
|
| No more, bye. |
| Thrown back out.
|
| Your plan on your hands, must carve into shape
|
| Streets are powered with people lovin',
|
| Words are destined to break down and bats will fly.
|
| (And if there’s trouble, I’m your brother
|
| You’ll talk subtle, but that’s a cover.
|
| I said, I said, I said, I said
|
| Ma ma ma ma, ma ma ma ma
|
| Ma ma ma ma, ma ma)
|
| Lame, lame
|
| The doctor only picks what he wants
|
| Sage
|
| So give it to the preacher now
|
| Mad in here, was welling from the westering wing.
|
| A moment rang,
|
| Your mother’s said your girl is gone.
|
| (I could have told you (to be livin' in the (place like one?))
|
| I could have told you (you better let the building run)
|
| I could have told you (to be livin' at the building now)
|
| I could have told you (to be livin' in a building))
|
| Swallow do you want to come home
|
| And we’ll ride in my buggy.
|
| Take me 'cross the Indian waves
|
| And we’ll swim with the great whites.
|
| (But you can still think back to) the wild,
|
| ('Cause happiness was being) a child.
|
| (Now house is bare
|
| And your mother, lonely.
|
| And your village cries,
|
| 'Cause the kid is older.
|
| But you can still think back to the wild,
|
| 'Cause happiness was being a child.)
|
| My bones see for your eyes.
|
| When you retire, she’s here, smile
|
| You’ll find razors, the doubt always saves 'em
|
| I am the reason that the child dies.
|
| (Every morning I’m your brother,
|
| Memories push you to paint another
|
| I said, I said, I said, I said.
|
| Ma ma ma ma, ma ma ma ma
|
| Ma ma ma ma, ma ma)
|
| Bang! |
| Nail. |
| A doctor only preach like one.
|
| Space. |
| So give it to the preacher now.
|
| Madeline, is hanging from the west-wing field, and
|
| A moment rang and the moment said, «Your girl is gone.»
|
| (I could have told you (to be little in the pouring down)
|
| I could have told you (to be little in the living red sun)
|
| I could have told you (to be livin' in the pounding drum)
|
| I could have told you (to be livin', off far away…))
|
| Don’t you pray if it’s only the play then
|
| Writhe its stampings into the ground, yeah
|
| I won’t wait for you in a mural if
|
| You won’t wait for me in Albania
|
| I feel so elusive in Houston,
|
| You feel so exclusive in Houston |