The Microphones
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Little Songs

The Microphones


I sing little songs to myself,
And try not to think about myself.
That's when i get blinded by sound.
I'm so confusing.

I think about what I'm supposed to be,
And what my friends think of me,
But thats something i could never know,
And i dont want to.

So when im recording songs,
The last part takes so long.
Thats when i have to make up words,
Then sing them.
I know about the world I'm in.
I think about it mostly when
I'm walking home at night,
After people turn off all the lights.


Now there's something there at night;
People put up christmas lights.
The car's parked and i'm just sneaking around,
Outside their house,
Where they're asleep inside.
I run through the bushes and hide,
And I see their dishes in the sink.
Pretty soon now it will snow,
My first snow away from home,
It's cold and I'm all bundled up.

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