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I was lying on the grass |
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On Sunday morning of last week |
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Indulging in my self defeats |
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My mind was thugged |
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All laced and bugged |
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All twisted round and beat |
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Uncomfortable three feet deep |
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Now the fuzzy stare from not being there |
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On a confusing morning week |
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Impaired my tribal lunar-speak |
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And of course you can't become |
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If you only say what you would have done |
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So I missed a million miles of fun |
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I know it's up for me |
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(If you steal my sunshine) |
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Making sure I'm not in too deep |
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(If you steal my sunshine) |
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Keeping versed and on my feet |
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(If you steal my sunshine) |
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I was frying on the bench slide |
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In the park across the street |
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L A T E R that week |
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My sticky paws were into making straws |
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Out of big fat slurpy treats |
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An incredible eight foot heap |
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Now the funny glare to pay a gleaming tear |
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In a staring under heat |
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Involved an under usual feat |
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And I'm not only among |
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But I invite who I want to come |
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So I missed a million miles of fun |
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I know it's up for me |
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(If you steal my sunshine) |
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Making sure I'm not in too deep |
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(If you steal my sunshine) |
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Keeping versed and on my feet |
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(If you steal my sunshine) |
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I know it's done for me |
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(If you steal my sunshine) |
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Not something hard to see |
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(If you steal my sunshine) |
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Keeping dumb and built to beat |
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(If you steal my sunshine) |
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My sunshine |
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(If you steal my sunshine) |
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My sunshine |
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(If you steal my sunshine) |
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My sunshine |
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(If you steal my sunshine) |
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... |
