Keys in fancy dress as a sleeve cuff I walk into the night Try not to think about love And how it gets you home safe And then messes the house up
A taxi would have caused Too much of a scene I can hear my thoughts From the other side of the street
I haven't got the appetite I'd rather eat alone Life is a buffet And I'm going home
Could I put up a fight If I was taken by surprise? I'd rather have two hands on my ears Than over my eyes
But we're hoping for no hands Out here at this time And that one day the only worry I'll have Is losing the hand that's holding mine
Still haven't got the appetite Still rather eat alone Life is a buffet And I'm going home
He sits on a secret Cups it in the shower Rolls it around For at least an hour a day Mistakes kryptonite for his superpower Yet, moves it to one side When the clock strikes happy-hour ‘Cause the watered-down tequila Makes his walls crumble like clay “Will you order me a carriage Or carry me and all my baggage? Even The Polyawkward Man could do with a hand when the sand runs away. ”
I hope it rains I will pretend The credits are rolling over me Headphones on I walk alone Along the Otley run To the other side of the screen
Compositores: Douglas Frost, Lewis Whiting, Lily Fontaine, Nicholas Eden