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Ours is not a sweet love |
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Ours is not a flame that burns like heaven so nice |
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Don't look in my eyes or I tell you twice |
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It's really complicated |
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Ours is not a sweet goodbye |
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Ours is not a fear that melts like honey and ice |
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So use your heart like a homing device |
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And tell it to me later |
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Suddenly there's no there there |
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And you're throwin' me another blank stare |
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'Cause we use the same products for our hair |
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For our hair |
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Ours is not a sweet lullabye |
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Ours is not a dream that falls on innocent eyes |
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Consider mulling over my sage advice |
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And get a new computer |
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Ours is not a home sweet home |
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Ours is not a street that leads to paradise |
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So hard to breathe with my balls in a vice |
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I really should be going |
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Suddenly neither one of us cares that |
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The rules are so unfair |
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'Cause we use the same products for our hair |
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For our hair |
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Ours is not a golden age |
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Ours is not a time that will be remembered as wise |
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So hang your heads and watch as it dies |
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And lose my phone number |
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'Cause we are made of passing dreams |
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We are here to entertain a sick diety |
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To procreate with a demon seed |
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But I swear it gets better |
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Suddenly the man upstairs comes down to get some air |
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And we hope he likes what we've done to our hair |
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To our hair |
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One two three four one two three four |
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One two three four one two three four |
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One two three four one two three four |
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One two three four one two three four |
