Not sure how it works
When you're living in a little mountain town
With a shitty little family car
Parked in the front yard
Married in the backyard
Buried in the side yard
Half in the sidewalk
Down past the water treatment facility
Remember when I lost all mobility
Ability to put on my own clothes
Four hours past the moment when the
Sun first climbs through the eastern window
And crawls across my face
I've grown to accept the spiders
When I'm gone they'll take my place
They'll raise their little families
And have dinner in my bed
They'll watch my tv shows
And fold all my clothes
And god knows I know
That life is a drunken stupor
And we're all trying to act sober
For our parents you know they're worried
And our kids you know they feel the tension too
So I'll cling to every moment
I'll make it last forever
Before this all just turns redundant
I'll make something out of nothing new
Not sure how it works
When you're living in new york city
With a shitty little family car
Parked in a garage
Married on a rooftop
Buried in a cemetery
Outside the city lines
Down past the water treatment facility
Remember when I lost all mobility
Ability to put on my own clothes
Four hours past the moment when the
Sun climbs down off the western window
And slides right off my eyes
I handed off the keys to the spiders
I hope they like the new place
They'll drive their kids to school
In my old family car
They'll have my grandkids over twice a month for dinner and game nights
Life is a drunken stupor
And we're all trying to act sober
For the love and all it takes from us
For the ones that look up to you
So I'll write down every moment
And I'll cling to every sunset
So when the sky clocks out for the night
My eyes might tell a story or two
& a dozen roses - water treatment facility Lyrics
& a dozen roses - water treatment facility Lyrics
Official
We currently do not have these lyrics.
If you would like to submit them, please use the form below.
We currently do not have these lyrics.
If you would like to submit them, please use the form below.
Not sure how it works
When you're living in a little mountain town
With a shitty little family car
Parked in the front yard
Married in the backyard
Buried in the side yard
Half in the sidewalk
Down past the water treatment facility
Remember when I lost all mobility
Ability to put on my own clothes
Four hours past the moment when the
Sun first climbs through the eastern window
And crawls across my face
I've grown to accept the spiders
When I'm gone they'll take my place
They'll raise their little families
And have dinner in my bed
They'll watch my tv shows
And fold all my clothes
And god knows I know
That life is a drunken stupor
And we're all trying to act sober
For our parents you know they're worried
And our kids you know they feel the tension too
So I'll cling to every moment
I'll make it last forever
Before this all just turns redundant
I'll make something out of nothing new
Not sure how it works
When you're living in new york city
With a shitty little family car
Parked in a garage
Married on a rooftop
Buried in a cemetery
Outside the city lines
Down past the water treatment facility
Remember when I lost all mobility
Ability to put on my own clothes
Four hours past the moment when the
Sun climbs down off the western window
And slides right off my eyes
I handed off the keys to the spiders
I hope they like the new place
They'll drive their kids to school
In my old family car
They'll have my grandkids over twice a month for dinner and game nights
Life is a drunken stupor
And we're all trying to act sober
For the love and all it takes from us
For the ones that look up to you
So I'll write down every moment
And I'll cling to every sunset
So when the sky clocks out for the night
My eyes might tell a story or two
When you're living in a little mountain town
With a shitty little family car
Parked in the front yard
Married in the backyard
Buried in the side yard
Half in the sidewalk
Down past the water treatment facility
Remember when I lost all mobility
Ability to put on my own clothes
Four hours past the moment when the
Sun first climbs through the eastern window
And crawls across my face
I've grown to accept the spiders
When I'm gone they'll take my place
They'll raise their little families
And have dinner in my bed
They'll watch my tv shows
And fold all my clothes
And god knows I know
That life is a drunken stupor
And we're all trying to act sober
For our parents you know they're worried
And our kids you know they feel the tension too
So I'll cling to every moment
I'll make it last forever
Before this all just turns redundant
I'll make something out of nothing new
Not sure how it works
When you're living in new york city
With a shitty little family car
Parked in a garage
Married on a rooftop
Buried in a cemetery
Outside the city lines
Down past the water treatment facility
Remember when I lost all mobility
Ability to put on my own clothes
Four hours past the moment when the
Sun climbs down off the western window
And slides right off my eyes
I handed off the keys to the spiders
I hope they like the new place
They'll drive their kids to school
In my old family car
They'll have my grandkids over twice a month for dinner and game nights
Life is a drunken stupor
And we're all trying to act sober
For the love and all it takes from us
For the ones that look up to you
So I'll write down every moment
And I'll cling to every sunset
So when the sky clocks out for the night
My eyes might tell a story or two
Writer: kadin ⠀
Copyright: Lyrics © O/B/O DistroKid
Copyright: Lyrics © O/B/O DistroKid