Found a flaw in the ending of a book that I've read twice I set her straight, it's not based on your life There's tension in this room We'll have butterflies
We're in a restless way when the fireflies come And they light the light where there once was none I won't think about next week, I won't think until
You count to seven It's usually till ten To hell with Sydney girls You're much better than them On my mattress I've been drawing a line Where I'll shut
Steal all the chandeliers down your street And call it romance Stop kissing all the neighbours that your brother meets Don't promise its chance And I
All the cars down the bottom, windmill chasing Calling police so, so we're placing, weight on minds [Incomprehensible] red sports car, Northwest dated
Drinking stolen gin from the rich people's bar next door And awkwardly I'm leaning on the shoulder Of the cousin who you choose to ignore And she says
To and fro from yours to Cecil Street You wore the same shirt that you wore last week Should I shake your hand or kiss your cheek? Convince you it's not
Stuck at your front gate With some pictures I just want to hand ya (Pictures, pictures, pictures, pictures, pictures) Almost made the door knock twice
With an envelope We'll enter buildings we might touch I've got souvenirs but yesterday can't mean too much Have we missed an opportunity? Whispers Chinese
If you're seeking repair for figure eights in the ice in your stare Seven stories we're climbing tonight So if you're angry about the fact that it's red
Is this a fling? It's seven days and you're already vanishing Is this a fling? It's seven days and you're already vanishing Is this a fling? It's seven
Don't hide the treasures you've found In a hole in the ground How 'bout the tree back your house Where the owls go (Owls go) Or in between the attic and
Found a flaw in the ending of a book that I've read twice, I set her straight, it's not based on your life. There's tension in this room, We'll have
Steal all the chandeliers down your street and call it romance, Stop kissing all the neighbours that your brother meets, Don't promise it's chance.
You won't count to seven It's usually 'til ten To hell with Sydney girls You're much better than them On my mattress I've been drawing a line Where
(Instrumental)
Drinking stolen gin from the rich people's bar next door and awkwardly I'm leaning on the shoulder of the cousin who you choose to ignore and she says
With an envelope, We'll enter buildings we might touch, I've got souvenirs but yesterday can't mean too much, Have we missed an opportunity? Whispers