You took the words right out of my mouth
On a bed of thorns, I watched them sprout
Comfort is hard, on a hammock I sway
The crashing cars getting out of my way.
We make it up
We go along
We fill our cup
We might be wrong
I like falling in between the lines
Falling back on crooked spines
Back and forth from right and wrong
Falling asleep to a familiar song
Dubious Buff
I'd marry you for papers, but I'm already legal, getting masked like capers, nocturnal like tapirs. Accounts tight like Kegel's, all over the place like Flock of Seagull's thirty years ago, with the Karate Kid selling out the dojo. Other mother fuckers talking about their cash flow, disco weed like hydro, leave a trail of beers and weaves, I've got divination like seers and thieves.
So yeah, we should start a hip hop club or some shit like chess with 40s.
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