We take sour sips From life's lush lips We shake shake the hips In relationships Stop by this disaster town You'll put your eyes to the sun & say "i know" You're only blinding to keep back what the clouds are hiding And we might have started singing just a little soon We're throwing the stones in a glass room. Whoa ah oh it's a miserable story Whoa ah oh far from the genuine becoming We keep the beat, With your blistered feet We bullet the words at the mockingbirds, singing Slept through the weekend And dream Sinking with the melody of the kiss of eternity Your pulse comes from a pharmacist, saying "how you been"? We might of said good byes just a little soon (Somehow this disaster town) Our beliefs of kissing beats over this room Whoa ah oh it's a miserable story Whoa ah oh far from the genuine becoming Whoa ah oh it's a miserable story Whoa ah oh far from the genuine becoming It was icecream headaches and sweet avalanche When the pearls in our shells came out to dance You call me a badtipper of the cradle But I'm just tired yawns for fawns on hunters lawns We're the hasbeens of husbands Sharpening the knives of young wives ... Whoa ah oh it's a miserable story Whoa ah oh far from the genuine becoming Whoa ah oh it's a miserable story Whoa ah oh far from the genuine becoming