Dry Clothes

There’s a knapsack rally for the stranger who told
Of a spider, and a purple toad
The things I heard were wretched and slurred
Oh my ears would be cut off at mention
But you don’t have to cut it off. (I only feel like living when I fell like I’m
dying)
Just give it some time. Your baby boy, he only naps
So mother bug don’t you bite your tongue
Because there’s nothing else to do for your son
He rose the dead. He’s been sharing his bed
With the only one he never loved
So why should you cry for the licence plate of a colder state?
Should you talk of the son on the run
Your tongue will be ripped out by ducklings
Oh, you don’t have to cut it off
Just give it some time. Your baby boy, he only naps
I only feel like living when I fell like I’m dying
Your baby boy, he only naps
Well Missy, sure you can look through my drawers
I’ve got nothing to hide
So, crying soul don’t you tally the toll
Because where’s the love in counting?
Dry clothes
Dry clothes
Dry clothes
Dry clothes