| Looking for the buttercups
|
| And I won’t say too much
|
| And then it comes a new disease
|
| And I won’t let it grow
|
| But how many roads
|
| Have you, you used for gold?
|
| Another race, another speed
|
| So don’t hold back
|
| Sixteen little seconds and you won’t stop
|
| Running 'round the track
|
| For, forgive me 'cause I can’t leave
|
| Oh, uh, oh, where do we go
|
| And how long will it take to slow
|
| Before we slide, before we slide
|
| Before we slide, before we slide?
|
| Butterflies and pickle bums
|
| And I really couldn’t give a fuck
|
| Am I close to treatment
|
| Or can I now go out in the rain?
|
| Who will see with me
|
| That we’ll never ever leave this pool?
|
| Oh, uh, oh, where do we go
|
| And how long will it take to slow
|
| Before we slide, before we slide
|
| Before we slide, before we slide?
|
| I have to say, that it’s, it’s not too late
|
| I have to say, you can never help out too late
|
| I must explain, that it’s all sober now
|
| Chocked water is now all squirting out
|
| Pile it up and sit on it next week
|
| 'Cause we all live our lives together in the bleak |