Come down from the ceiling. Oh, these pills were made for feeling. Oh, so divine. . I've got a lump in my throat. Oh, so I'll keep hold of hope. Oh yeah.
Big stretch and not much sleep. I got a couple of palm trees on each side of my cheek. And it's a bright blue Saturday. And the rummage sells the rubbish to me.
The clothesline of cold eyes. Is washing away the face before. Now tell me what's wrong you see everyone's gone. You gotta do your best to decorate this dying day, this dying day.
How come, girl was there when I needed one. How come, girl was there when the song is done. Some say, open your eyes to a brighter light. Okay, open my hart and never lie.
I've got to buy some shoes. These ones are getting loose. My feet are shrinking in the sun and it ain't fun. But it looks like rain up ahead in forty miles.
No time frame, for what I need to do today. Here at the Yellow House. I think that I'm gonna play. With some free livin' lads down the street. Away's away.
I'll make a shoehorn outta your shin. I'll make a lampshade of durable skin. And, oh, don't you know that I'm always feelin' able. When I'm sittin' home and I'm carving out your navel?.