Lyrics to Legends Of The Hidden Temple
We were drinking coffee out of Mason jars
And replacing stars with cheap taboos
The track marks on your face are dried Elmer's glue
I feel aloof enough to introspect
Read and reread womanous texts
There's a hierarchy of needs
My kill count includes way too many centipedes
Tell myself I'm not a jerk
Tell your mom I'm not a jerk
Shy away from jobs, borrow money, anything that works,
That isn't work
You read Catch-22 on the Kindle
I used to play "Turkey in the Straw on the fiddle
Weave a tapestry, my mouth is like a spindle
Modern sitcom titled, Malcolm X in the Middle
Which is the bad pill: red, blue or Advil?
Used to write poems and tell myself I had mad skills
My pops would sing in the shower; what a neat vibrato
Hold the violin bow proper when plucking pizzicato
I want to be a bird that wrote in a letter to Nelly Furtado
I'm mostly lonely until I figure out the angles
She laughs when I call her my spottieottiedopaliscious angel
I could make you a delicious peach crumble
You don't want to send and receive all these messages I bungled
We could go on a swell date to the arcade
Watch your eyes glaze when I give you the star map that I made
One time a bird shit on me while I was waiting for the L train
Dragon Ball Z wasn't worth watching until Cell came
That's rather macabre, I hate ask, but what about Bob?
I've been wearing flannel pajama bottoms for too long
Only muster the courage to leave the house when the oolong is gone
I don't like my lentils hard
You snatched me up like one of Olmec's temple guards
I splurged and bought a case of Bubba Cola
For Pete's sake, we had plans to buy a bloody Corolla
The domesticated life has been filed away in a beige folder
A well-spoken black man, let me be your Eric Holder
Or more aptly, Erik Estrada
You made delicious cookies with chocolate chips
I want to write a book all about rocket ships
Silly arguments over tofurkey bastings
I feel like Duke William in the Battle of Hastings
I feel like
I feel like
I feel like
I feel like Duke William in the Battle of Hastings
And replacing stars with cheap taboos
The track marks on your face are dried Elmer's glue
I feel aloof enough to introspect
Read and reread womanous texts
There's a hierarchy of needs
My kill count includes way too many centipedes
Tell myself I'm not a jerk
Tell your mom I'm not a jerk
Shy away from jobs, borrow money, anything that works,
That isn't work
You read Catch-22 on the Kindle
I used to play "Turkey in the Straw on the fiddle
Weave a tapestry, my mouth is like a spindle
Modern sitcom titled, Malcolm X in the Middle
Which is the bad pill: red, blue or Advil?
Used to write poems and tell myself I had mad skills
My pops would sing in the shower; what a neat vibrato
Hold the violin bow proper when plucking pizzicato
I want to be a bird that wrote in a letter to Nelly Furtado
I'm mostly lonely until I figure out the angles
She laughs when I call her my spottieottiedopaliscious angel
I could make you a delicious peach crumble
You don't want to send and receive all these messages I bungled
We could go on a swell date to the arcade
Watch your eyes glaze when I give you the star map that I made
One time a bird shit on me while I was waiting for the L train
Dragon Ball Z wasn't worth watching until Cell came
That's rather macabre, I hate ask, but what about Bob?
I've been wearing flannel pajama bottoms for too long
Only muster the courage to leave the house when the oolong is gone
I don't like my lentils hard
You snatched me up like one of Olmec's temple guards
I splurged and bought a case of Bubba Cola
For Pete's sake, we had plans to buy a bloody Corolla
The domesticated life has been filed away in a beige folder
A well-spoken black man, let me be your Eric Holder
Or more aptly, Erik Estrada
You made delicious cookies with chocolate chips
I want to write a book all about rocket ships
Silly arguments over tofurkey bastings
I feel like Duke William in the Battle of Hastings
I feel like
I feel like
I feel like
I feel like Duke William in the Battle of Hastings
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