[00:16.240] |
Sit down and fire away' |
[00:19.950] |
I know it's tricky when you're feeling low' |
[00:23.970] |
When you feel like your flavour |
[00:26.220] |
Has gone the way of a pre-shelled pistachio... |
[00:31.810] |
I know you're weighed down |
[00:34.300] |
You're fed up with your heavy |
[00:38.620] |
Your boots |
[00:39.570] |
laced with melancholy notion's all you own... |
[01:04.400] |
I do - like sugar - |
[01:07.150] |
Tend toward the brittle and sticky when spun |
[01:11.950] |
and I know my demeanor |
[01:14.970] |
has gone the way of a photo left out in the sun... |
[01:20.400] |
so I try to keep myself in lillies and flax seeds... |
[01:27.880] |
oh what a folly- fooling just yourself... |
[01:52.310] |
Sit down and smoke away' |
[01:55.850] |
I wouldn't knock it till you're in them shoes |
[02:00.330] |
oh watch as ours subtlety blows away |
[02:03.790] |
as a blusher gives way to a bruise... |
[02:08.500] |
But seemly' we'd freely make a trade-off |
[02:15.110] |
a dry rot to take the weight off |
[02:18.480] |
Swap the boots for red shoes |