Good Talk
They took away my fingers laced from your loving hands.
Afraid I'd waste a whole life then a long half life began.
The prison of having you out of reach is something I can't stand.
So break out again and shout each other's names,
Like it's all been part of the plan.
Ahh, ooo, Ahh, ooo
Well it seems to me that their outcries are a far cry from honesty,
Half a million ways to say nothing means nothing to me.
The love we know and they will feel has no boundaries
If there's a line to be drawn, they're always above it.
Ahh, ooo, ahh, ooo
It's back in style, that old craze,
Well done, good job.
Spoon-fed, windswept,
Good dog, good talk.
You're dug in deep
Shovel the mud on the pile
To cover up all of us.
To cover up all of us.
Ahh, ooo, ahh, ooo
Is this somebody else's dream?
I haven't had one where I can fly in a while.
I don't know what "a good one" means,
I guess falling and spiders and dying
Are something I've resigned my life to be.
They took away my fingers laced from your loving hands.
Afraid I'd waste a whole life then a long half life began.
The prison of having you out of reach is something I can't stand.
So break out again and shout each other's names,
Like it's all been part of the plan.
Ahh, ooo.
It's back in style, that old craze,
Well done, good job.
Spoon-fed, windswept,
Good dog, good talk.
You're dug in deep
Shovel the mud on the pile
To cover up all of us.
To cover up all of us.
Afraid I'd waste a whole life then a long half life began.
The prison of having you out of reach is something I can't stand.
So break out again and shout each other's names,
Like it's all been part of the plan.
Ahh, ooo, Ahh, ooo
Well it seems to me that their outcries are a far cry from honesty,
Half a million ways to say nothing means nothing to me.
The love we know and they will feel has no boundaries
If there's a line to be drawn, they're always above it.
Ahh, ooo, ahh, ooo
It's back in style, that old craze,
Well done, good job.
Spoon-fed, windswept,
Good dog, good talk.
You're dug in deep
Shovel the mud on the pile
To cover up all of us.
To cover up all of us.
Ahh, ooo, ahh, ooo
Is this somebody else's dream?
I haven't had one where I can fly in a while.
I don't know what "a good one" means,
I guess falling and spiders and dying
Are something I've resigned my life to be.
They took away my fingers laced from your loving hands.
Afraid I'd waste a whole life then a long half life began.
The prison of having you out of reach is something I can't stand.
So break out again and shout each other's names,
Like it's all been part of the plan.
Ahh, ooo.
It's back in style, that old craze,
Well done, good job.
Spoon-fed, windswept,
Good dog, good talk.
You're dug in deep
Shovel the mud on the pile
To cover up all of us.
To cover up all of us.
Credits
Writer(s): Marion Earley, Ryan Meier
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
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