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Sleeping off the last five years takes another five.
Recovery in lieu of being here right now.
When I throw myself at your feet,
You know it's to be walked on.
We're breaking up every single night.
If I had a choice don't you think I'd make it?
I lost my voice. Hope I didn't break it.
Little demons by my bed whisper secrets.
The kind you never hear.
I dip my toe in this cold, cold life.
I want to dive but I can't find your feet.
You with a view so unlike my own.
I'm trying on your eyes.
So I let go, fall to the ground.
It's a long way down again.
Petty cons keep peeling back my ears.
We make plans.
Collaborate and give to you
my better half.
Until now just dead weight,
A prisoner of doubt.
In a cell we kiss and tell all our keepsakes.
Sore, hit the floor.
Got my first glimpse of the sky.
The stars were on your side.
Who would've thunk
the thirteenth fell on Friday?
I say hello and it's goodbye again.
Recovery in lieu of being here right now.
When I throw myself at your feet,
You know it's to be walked on.
We're breaking up every single night.
If I had a choice don't you think I'd make it?
I lost my voice. Hope I didn't break it.
Little demons by my bed whisper secrets.
The kind you never hear.
I dip my toe in this cold, cold life.
I want to dive but I can't find your feet.
You with a view so unlike my own.
I'm trying on your eyes.
So I let go, fall to the ground.
It's a long way down again.
Petty cons keep peeling back my ears.
We make plans.
Collaborate and give to you
my better half.
Until now just dead weight,
A prisoner of doubt.
In a cell we kiss and tell all our keepsakes.
Sore, hit the floor.
Got my first glimpse of the sky.
The stars were on your side.
Who would've thunk
the thirteenth fell on Friday?
I say hello and it's goodbye again.
Lyrics submitted by oofus
Track duration: 03:55
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Isn't it really about the angst and pain he feels from his frustrated career as a McDonalds McNugget Chicken Raiser, and the constant exposure to all those chickens with the grotesquely and unnaturally enlarged McBreasts.... Giving rise to the contrast that he must accept that his Frankenchickens are leaving, as they line up excitedly, awaiting their ride on the Mechanical Chicken Separator machine. In the end he wonders if he can achieve some closure, bridging the chasm of their separation, by breaking out some Honey Mustard or BBQ Sauce and maybe a six or nine piece.... a real "Happy Meal".
Wow... how can any one song be so chock full of Ironical Meta-fours (and even some Meta-twos and threes. Insane!