Tuesday, July 13, 2010

Turn those clapping hands into balled fists

Sleep on pillows made in Singapore Wrapped in comforters Sweatin' through sheets Drinkin' coffee in the morning Flown in on aeroplanes across the vast seas And your house is made of wood Central air, central heat You've got your furniture of particle board Your doors are locked for, for safety And you walk in leather shoes Pants of denim, a black cotton sweatshirt And you do what you do'cause doing, you start to form a habit And you drink all night long And you sleep through the morning And if something doesn't break I'm just gonna go, go fucking insane....Away....And you sweep up the floor when it's dirty You do the dishes, when the sink's full And when the refridgerator's empty Well it's time, it's time, it's time, it's time, to go the store You put your books on a shelf Clothes arranged in the closet You hang the things on the wall that you don't wanna be so easily forgotten I hate these songs I hate the words That the singer is singin' to me I hate this melodyI hate this stupid fucking drum beat But I'm not gonna tell anyone What I'm really thinking about Keep the conversations on the surface Just keep on smiling Just keep on saying Everything's gonna be alright

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