good heavens, its pluto !
The door to the front yard is stuck on the concrete, you'd think it'd be hard to let go
The napkin is stained with your lipstick
Your friend downstairs has been workin on her magic tricks
Your eyes, your eyes, they look to the phone
But there's no one to call so you wait to walk home
Your hands, your hands, they rest on your lap
Aching for a second chance but the price is too high to catch
But you don't have a clue
Of what's on the other side, the sting of the heat why can't you decide
While the leaves pass you by
The concrete is pulled up now but you still have time
You still have time
The door is all you'll ever see
Stumble into something new, you're halfway up the tree
Feel the heat with the back of your hand
If you're not ready dear, step into the sand
Alright
But you don't have a clue
Of what's on the other side, the sting of the heat why can't you decide
While the leaves pass you by
The concrete is pulled up now but you still have time
You still have time
You still have time
Your eyes, your eyes, they look to the phone
But there's no one to call so you wait to walk home
Your hands, your hands, they rest on your lap
Aching for a second chance but the price is too high to catch
The napkin is stained with your lipstick
Your friend downstairs has been workin on her magic tricks
Your eyes, your eyes, they look to the phone
But there's no one to call so you wait to walk home
Your hands, your hands, they rest on your lap
Aching for a second chance but the price is too high to catch
But you don't have a clue
Of what's on the other side, the sting of the heat why can't you decide
While the leaves pass you by
The concrete is pulled up now but you still have time
You still have time
The door is all you'll ever see
Stumble into something new, you're halfway up the tree
Feel the heat with the back of your hand
If you're not ready dear, step into the sand
Alright
But you don't have a clue
Of what's on the other side, the sting of the heat why can't you decide
While the leaves pass you by
The concrete is pulled up now but you still have time
You still have time
You still have time
Your eyes, your eyes, they look to the phone
But there's no one to call so you wait to walk home
Your hands, your hands, they rest on your lap
Aching for a second chance but the price is too high to catch
Credits
Writer(s): Brandon Smith
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
Link
© 2024 All rights reserved. Rockol.com S.r.l. Website image policy
Rockol
- Rockol only uses images and photos made available for promotional purposes (“for press use”) by record companies, artist managements and p.r. agencies.
- Said images are used to exert a right to report and a finality of the criticism, in a degraded mode compliant to copyright laws, and exclusively inclosed in our own informative content.
- Only non-exclusive images addressed to newspaper use and, in general, copyright-free are accepted.
- Live photos are published when licensed by photographers whose copyright is quoted.
- Rockol is available to pay the right holder a fair fee should a published image’s author be unknown at the time of publishing.
Feedback
Please immediately report the presence of images possibly not compliant with the above cases so as to quickly verify an improper use: where confirmed, we would immediately proceed to their removal.