You think, you think
You think too much, I think
I think you think too much, I think
I think, you don't know what you're talking about
You do, you do
I must be honest, I hate this slower street
I park all ready to be robbed by people that I meet
I know, I know, I know, I know, I know, I hear
I know, I know, I know, got nothing to fear
You keep pushing, you keep pushing
Pushy, pushy, don't push me
I'm an insect, I'm a figment
I'm a chief as a genuine minion
Imaginations, imaginations
Imagine my frustrations
You pick a fight with a .45 caliber
Won't help you
It was a dismal rain that cooled the hot
When it trickled down we all saw spots
Float over, float over
Now I've been in jail for a million years
Got all these people holding me back
I know, I know
I must be honest I hate this stone street
I park all ready to be robbed by people
I know, I know and I'm growing tried
I'm growing tired
It's my favorite mangle, a fanciful tangle
That went down like the [Incomprehensible] spastic
And spasms and spasms
Suffer the death of what you are
It's now, it's now
Suffer the death of what you were
Has no effect on a hard-boiled world
Warm, weary eyed
[Incomprehensible] cat skill world
You must follow blind
Just shoot a pigeon-holed pigeon
You're waiting to be sheave
Just like you sheave that grazes all over your face
And you've got the urge to be a lightning bolt
And you've got the urge to be a lightning bolt
I've gotta tell you, I just don't know
I've gotta tell you, I just don't know
What the fuck you're trying to say?
What the fuck, man?
What the fuck you trying to say?
Just sit there and shut your mouth
Just sit there and shut up
Artist: Strokes
Artist: Jetpack Jones
Artist: Lovin Spoonful