When the party Ends

作词:佚名

作曲:Alfred Moore Thomas III

所属专辑:Every Night (Alternate LP Version)

歌词

@migu music@

When the Party Ends - Saturday Looks Good To Me

Looks Good To Me

Despite everything you've heard

You still get what you deserve

The world just can't find the words

To tell you what they think about you

The bus comes every morning

Under long lists of reasons

Everyday you're still sleeping

And everyday it leaves without you

Now you're talking on the phone

With all your angry friends

It really doesn't matter what you say to them

Because when you hang up

Everything will feel just like a dream

But until you do

Let's keep it between you and me

Despite everything you heard

From the bumblebees and the mockingbirds

There still aren't any words

To all the songs they wrote about you

The bus comes early in the morning

Everyday you are forever sleeping

And even with your reasons

It's still gonna leave without you

Now I see you going out

With all your useless friends

You know it doesn't matter

What you do with them

Because when you come home

Everything will just have been a dream

But until you do

Let's keep it between you and me

I hear your conversations

With your boring friends

It really doesn't matter

What you're telling them

'Cause you'll be sleeping over

When the party ends

And we'll wake up tomorrow

And we'll start again

And anything outside of that is just pretend

And if you tell them different then you're lyin'

The things that people say

Don't make no difference

Now we can talk it over or just go to bed

Or we can go to all the places

Where the money's spent

And buy whatever new

Distraction that the suits invent

They know the demographic that we represent

Because they heard all of our

Secrets through the heating vent

So write another song about your discontent

And wax nostalgic for a time less turbulent

With metaphors like closet doors that won't open

And you can use your list

Of words that rhyme with 'opulent'

Now someone said that you

Should throw in 'malcontent'

Maybe somebody can tell

Us where the liquor went

And we can raise our glasses

While they raise our rent

And search for a solution

That's more permanent

But there isn't any doctor or a medicine

That's gonna make you feel less insignifigent

Another bunch of words that you can soon forget

Another bunch of crooks disguised as gentlemen

Now you wonder why the

Notes are always bruised and bent

You think that it's your

Song but it's your instrument

You want to turn invisible and try again

I'll kiss you in the kitchen and I'll count to ten

And then when you wake up

All of this will just have been a dream

But until you do

Let's keep it between you and me

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