Lyrics
Mountains of molehills,
A grapevine in my ear.
Spots on the tiger while the townspeople gather to hear,
While the nest in my hands starve for rest.
Sticklers for cheap fun,
You oughta be ashamed,
To trade in your heirlooms,
For an all day black market parade,
For a grand prize a slap in the face.
For you.
Bold faced type covers your text,
It must have been winter.
Still frame, no dice.
Where do you get your evidence?
Move now, stay still.
It takes a luminescent hue.
The wood, the crest that's weaved outside your vest.
Still frame, no dice.
Loons light the skyline,
While you sleep on concrete,
With both your eyes open.
I just kept pullin' on both your feet.
Someday together we'll breathe, breathe.
For you.
Bold faced type covers your text,
It must have been winter.
Still frame, no dice.
Where do you get your evidence?
Move now, stay still.
It takes a luminescent hue.
The wood, the crest that's weaved outside your vest.
Still frame, no dice.
Roll down the windows,
I know there's a shortcut ahead.
The long drive home is taking its toll,
We just need to rest.
Still frame, no dice.
Where do you get your evidence?
Move now, stay still.
It takes a luminescent hue.
The wood, the crest that's weaved outside your vest.
Still frame, no dice.
