One was a piper. One was a rat.
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They couldn't decipher how it came to that.
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And at the cockadoodle they crawled out of their beds.
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As if the rooster knew each rising dawn they dread.
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Lost in a flurry.
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Looking for landmines hid in a ribcage back at the front line.
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And when the sun is falling they crawl out of their skins.
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They hear the moonlight calling them from this mess they're in.
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Take deep breaths and waste sweet seconds.
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The late day beckons, the late day beckons.
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And if you save it, it'll slip away, spend seven nights like Saturday.
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Yawn, Yawn, Yawn, we're all long gone.
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If we get lucky we'll be dead by dawn.
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So let's get-get-get-get-get-get-get-get-get it on!
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I wanna get-get-get-get-get-get-get-get-get it on!
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Charging the windmill and missing the mark.
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Blinded by sunlight but drafting an arc.
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I've got a million dollars made of ten million dimes paid for ten billion failures of others' good advice.
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Yawn, Yawn, Yawn
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| Les Savy Fav |
