I took a crack at the thermostat the resistance don't look right
Maytag blues and a pile of screws and a kid screaming through the night
But the line's still straight from the fence to the gate
I can hang my pain to dry
And I don't need a clock to tell me I'm late for the news to tell when I'll die
HOLY MOLY
And I don't give a rip about the chips let 'em fall, let 'em fry, who cares?
I'll save money by drinking less and letting you cut my hair
But the line's still straight from the fence to the gate
I can hang my pain to dry
And I don't need a clock to tell me I'm late for the news to tell when I'll die
HOLY MOLY
When they finally dig us up a thousand years from now
Sifting through our T.V. dinners with a furrowed brow
Flip past fossiled fingertips finding holocenic eyes
Such elastic lies in a plastic prize
Buck the Taxidermist - HOLY MOLY Lyrics
Buck the Taxidermist - HOLY MOLY Lyrics
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English
I took a crack at the thermostat the resistance don't look right
Maytag blues and a pile of screws and a kid screaming through the night
But the line's still straight from the fence to the gate
I can hang my pain to dry
And I don't need a clock to tell me I'm late for the news to tell when I'll die
HOLY MOLY
And I don't give a rip about the chips let 'em fall, let 'em fry, who cares?
I'll save money by drinking less and letting you cut my hair
But the line's still straight from the fence to the gate
I can hang my pain to dry
And I don't need a clock to tell me I'm late for the news to tell when I'll die
HOLY MOLY
When they finally dig us up a thousand years from now
Sifting through our T.V. dinners with a furrowed brow
Flip past fossiled fingertips finding holocenic eyes
Such elastic lies in a plastic prize
Maytag blues and a pile of screws and a kid screaming through the night
But the line's still straight from the fence to the gate
I can hang my pain to dry
And I don't need a clock to tell me I'm late for the news to tell when I'll die
HOLY MOLY
And I don't give a rip about the chips let 'em fall, let 'em fry, who cares?
I'll save money by drinking less and letting you cut my hair
But the line's still straight from the fence to the gate
I can hang my pain to dry
And I don't need a clock to tell me I'm late for the news to tell when I'll die
HOLY MOLY
When they finally dig us up a thousand years from now
Sifting through our T.V. dinners with a furrowed brow
Flip past fossiled fingertips finding holocenic eyes
Such elastic lies in a plastic prize
Writer: Kyle Ayres
Copyright: Lyrics © O/B/O DistroKid
Copyright: Lyrics © O/B/O DistroKid