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Sleep on pillows made in |
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Singapore |
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Wrapped in comforters |
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Sweatin' through sheets |
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Drinkin' coffee in the morning |
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Flown in on aeroplanes across the vast seas |
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And your house is made of wood |
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Central air, central heat |
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You've got your furniture of particle board |
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Your doors are locked for, for safety |
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And you walk in leather shoes |
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Pants of denim, a black cotton sweatshirt |
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And you do what you do 'cause doing, you start to form a habit |
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And you drink all night long |
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And you sleep through the morning |
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And if something doesn't break |
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I'm just gonna go, go ****ing insane |
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Away And you sweep up the floor when it's dirty |
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You do the dishes, when the sink's full |
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And when the refridgerator's empty |
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Well it's time, it's time, it's time, it's time, to go the store |
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You put your books on a shelf |
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Clothes arranged in the closet |
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You hang the things on the wall that you don't wanna be so easily forgotten |
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I hate these songs |
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I hate the words |
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That the singer is singin' to me |
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I hate this melody |
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I hate this stupid ****ing drum beat |
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But I'm not gonna tell anyone |
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What I'm really thinking about |
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Keep the conversations on the surface |
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Just keep on smiling |
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Just keep on saying |
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Everything's gonna be alright |
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It's gonna be alright [x2] |
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Alright [x11] |
