Holiday For Plywood

Sometimes, in the finest of moments
You find the furniture just doesn't fit
Something about the carpet
Makes you want to scream

The ashtrays make you ill
The hostess wants you to smile
Don't sit on the sofa
The plastic makes you sweat

The bathroom's done in mirror tiles
The toaster wants your blood



Credits
Writer(s): Steven Brown, Blaine Reininger, Winston Tong, Peter Lassell Dachert
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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