- cifra
A thousand little elves
Coming up from beneath my bed
They gather round the campfire
And start singing the songs in my head
But with the wrong words!
By the light of the fire their faces
All begin to crumble
And they fall to their knees
They laugh at my expense!
Bloodsuckers!
I could crush you with my thumb
Bloodsuckers!
I'm so sick of your tricks
How I wish the Sun would come
I can make lyrics rhyme
All the time
But that don’t soothe my spine
Just making a melody
Should be enough for me
But you like watching me lose my mind
They’re crawling up my knees now
And requesting a song about love
But I know I'm being teased now
So I'm singing a song about getting squeezed by
Bloodsuckers!
I could crush you with my thumb
Bloodsuckers!
I'm so sick of your tricks
How I wish the Sun would come
