Paroles People Often Tell Me I'm Good At What I Do de Astronautalis

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I like living, it's easyMoves like a gift in a weather that's breezyBlew by my lipsShakes like the uneasy when seduced by a kissI wanna slide my hand underneath your pillow where it fitsWalk to the ocean and wait for your ordersSit up all night, watch the blue lights flick on the waterIt's all right if you never showJust the idea that you might's enough to keep my head afloatI guess its all to common for people my heightWalk around, head in the clouds, ducking under streetlightsHate the phone, the fax, the emails and the restHandwritten messages always seem to say it bestBut once the pencil hits the paper and the pigs in the pokeAddressed in Sunday's best with a stamp on the frontTeady to drop inside the box and take flight with the storksI can't seem to placate dreams and commit to the causeI got a box of old letters, a brain filled with buzzards,Ready to swoop down and pick apart my pain from my druthersIt's inane and it hovers, at the back of your thoughtsLike poppin' pills dry inside the throat that get caughtI guess I was just scared it'd come out wrong,So instead of sending those letters I wrote you this terrible song.I guess, I'm still really scared,And that's the way it goes with being unprepared.I wanna write good songs that we all sing along toWhen the lights go up and the night's all throughI wanna write good songs that we all sing along toWhen the lights go up and the night's all throughI wanna write good songs that we all sing along toWhen the lights go up and the night's all throughI wanna write good songs thatI wanna write good songs thatI wanna write good songs thatI wanna write good songsI know I should have called you I know its six to seven digitsMisdirected by reflections and flickering televisionsSometimes I like to steal odds and ends from peoples housesNew q-tips night-standing, digging pennies out of couchesI got a set of sticky fingers and a back built for hammocksBut this ain't no doctor's note and I ain't no blank canvasIt's just the way the pen is, I'm good at what I doFrom failing to falling in and out of touch with youI wanna shake hands with the world and make mix tapes for AmericaAnd find the time to tell you the things I normally find embarrassingYou've always been fantastic, I've been foolish and sub-parI hope for your sake, you're hearing this song in a barHope for your sake, you're hearing this song in a barHope for your sake, you're hearing this song in a barHope for your sake, you're hearing this song in a barHope for your sake, you're hearing this song in a barI wanna write good songs that we all sing along toWhen the lights go up and the night's all throughI wanna write good songs that we all sing along toWhen the lights go up and the night's all throughI wanna write good songs that we all sing along toWhen the lights go up and the night's all throughI wanna write good songsI wanna write good songs (good songs)I wanna write good songsI wanna write good songsGood songsGood songsGood songs

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