Dreams of Drywall

My mind is fuzzy and my feet are cold
Don't know if I feel young or old
My brain is melting out of every hole
I'm getting sick of the show

Takes two to tango, I prefer the twist
Heart-shaped hands at the ends of my wrists
Maybe I'd have money if I used my hips
Or found some shoes that fit

I heard a knock at my door
Tremors all through the floor

The news read it was World War three
My sticky eyes were glued to the screen
But I got bored and fell asleep

I'd rather be in my dreams

Four walls, they all bone white
Could be beige in a certain light
I dream of drywall every night

I guess I call that life
I guess I call that life
Ooh, yes, I call that life



Credits
Writer(s): Zachary Schreiber
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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