It's only the old boys who call through the trees
Sucking the mist up, I guess it was real
And they've got guns
Now I don't hear them,
Having shut the shades and secured locks on every door I can lock
Sure that if I second guess my work and stick my head out
It'll blow off in one shot
And who wants to sleep by her who death becomes
Someone who sleeps with her neck in reverse?
It's only me
You look at me, I turn around and wonder am I dreaming?
Nidgeting a startled pulse out of a little calf with your knee
I foresee us undercover faking darker habits
Better call it off before me
Or be in this picture
This picture with me
Be in this picture
This picture with me
Fell for a bone bag who sank in my stream
Now you better dry off so nobody sees
It's only the old boys who reserve the rooms,
And it's only oxygal accepts the key
Solve for a way just to stifle the mim
Gets so complacent when he swallows my fingers
Did all I could just to keep you around,
So while you stand around
Be in this picture
This picture with me
Be in this picture
This picture with me
Fell for a bombshell who tripped in my street
Now we better part ways so nobody sees
Sucking the mist up, I guess it was real
Good thing I taught you the backstroke you hate
