Poached Eggs

When thumbs get slit, chicks get lit.
When thumbs get slit, chicks get lit.
When thumbs get slit, chicks get lit.
When thumbs get slit, chicks get lit.

Parts of post-its all on my bedroom floor, come over sweep them away believe it was something you made, only something you can make.

In my efforts of violin infinity swirls, hand it in sorry salty, thoughts of a ticker let you go.

And the shapes of mayonnaise, french fries and you and your chicken wing ways. You'll forgive one for, remembering days. Remembering days.

I'm sorry for being so gay the day you spilt your poached efforts all over my duvet. And I'm sorry for being so incredibly gay the day you spilt your poached efforts on my duvet, you're still on my duvet.

It's just that when, thumbs get slit, chicks get lit.
When thumbs get slit, chicks get lit.
When thumbs get slit, chicks get lit.
When thumbs get slit, chicks get lit.

When thumbs get slit, chicks get lit.
When thumbs get slit, chicks get lit.
When thumbs get slit, chicks get lit.
When thumbs get slit, chicks get lit.

It's okay, I love you lady, bye bye.
It's okay, I love you lady, bye bye.
It's okay, I love you lady, bye bye.
I love you lady.

When thumbs get slit, chicks get lit.
When thumbs get slit, chicks get lit.
When thumbs get slit, chicks get lit.
When thumbs get slit, chicks get lit.

Okay I love you lady, bye bye.
Okay I love you lady, bye bye.
Okay I love you lady, bye bye, bye bye.
I love you. Okay I love you lady.
Okay I love you lady, bye bye.



Credits
Writer(s): Mary Kate Geraghty, Adrian Paul Mullan, Thomas William Ryan, James Patrick Fox, Lee Patrick Boylan
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

Link