Shut me up with your long tubesocks They don't scream, "Hey, let's just be friends" Look at both my inkwells brimming I was much less understanding then
How many stars you think you possess How many in your butterfly net Build me a star in your forehead You were so misunderstood back then
But I think I get you now
In a stranger's nightmare
Don't let the bathwater get too high You will be a flood of porcelain The lines clawed on the inside It's digging hard into your tiles
And we're going to flood this house We're going to flood this house
In a stranger's nightmare More from Freelance Whales