Things That Look Like Mistakes
Play me something that feels like
Dancing in my socks
With my third glass of wine, and
Play me something that makes me forget
That I gotta save up
Gotta pay for my casket
My body is a student house
With a mycologist, psychologist and painter chilling out
And they are in the heat of a debate
And the noise is keeping me awake
So play me a song that makes me feel like I'm home
Where neighbours are nice
And the monsteras grow
Play me something that feels like
Dancing in my socks
With my third glass of wine, and
Play me something that makes me forget
That I gotta save up
Gotta pay for my casket
Play me something that feels like
Dancing in my socks
With my third glass of wine, and
Play me something that makes me forget
That I gotta save up
Gotta pay for my casket
Feels like they're depending on my slowly ending
A slight sense of decay
I don't like where it's heading
Embrace the imperfect unfolding of nature
But purposelessness don't really feel worth defending
Feel time slowly passing
From pain everlasting
I don't know what to say, every day
How my past stings
I write little poems each day inside my head
My only conclusion
I don't want to die yet
Met some crust punks at the black metal show
With the long hair on stage, they screamed
'If tomorrow I'm gonna be haunted
Today I'm gonna be free'
I awoke to the dawn chorus glow
Heard the birds singing to the trees
'Tomorrow, I can be haunted
But today, I'm gonna be free!'
So, play me something that feels like
Dancing in my socks
With my third glass of wine, and
Play me something that makes me forget
That I gotta save up
Gotta pay for my casket
Play me something that feels like
Dancing in my socks
With my third glass of wine, and
Play me something that makes me forget
That I gotta save up
Gotta pay for my casket
Gotta pay for my casket
I gotta save up
Gotta pay for my casket
Dancing in my socks
With my third glass of wine, and
Play me something that makes me forget
That I gotta save up
Gotta pay for my casket
My body is a student house
With a mycologist, psychologist and painter chilling out
And they are in the heat of a debate
And the noise is keeping me awake
So play me a song that makes me feel like I'm home
Where neighbours are nice
And the monsteras grow
Play me something that feels like
Dancing in my socks
With my third glass of wine, and
Play me something that makes me forget
That I gotta save up
Gotta pay for my casket
Play me something that feels like
Dancing in my socks
With my third glass of wine, and
Play me something that makes me forget
That I gotta save up
Gotta pay for my casket
Feels like they're depending on my slowly ending
A slight sense of decay
I don't like where it's heading
Embrace the imperfect unfolding of nature
But purposelessness don't really feel worth defending
Feel time slowly passing
From pain everlasting
I don't know what to say, every day
How my past stings
I write little poems each day inside my head
My only conclusion
I don't want to die yet
Met some crust punks at the black metal show
With the long hair on stage, they screamed
'If tomorrow I'm gonna be haunted
Today I'm gonna be free'
I awoke to the dawn chorus glow
Heard the birds singing to the trees
'Tomorrow, I can be haunted
But today, I'm gonna be free!'
So, play me something that feels like
Dancing in my socks
With my third glass of wine, and
Play me something that makes me forget
That I gotta save up
Gotta pay for my casket
Play me something that feels like
Dancing in my socks
With my third glass of wine, and
Play me something that makes me forget
That I gotta save up
Gotta pay for my casket
Gotta pay for my casket
I gotta save up
Gotta pay for my casket
Credits
Writer(s): George David Berry, Nicholas Peters, Callum Litchfield, Iain Joseph Gillespie
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
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