We take sour sips

From life's lush lips

We shake shake shake the hips

In relationships

Stop by this disaster town

You'll put your eyes to the sun and 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 ice cream headaches and sweet avalanche

When the pearls in our shells came out to dance

You call me a bad tipper of the cradle

But I'm just tired yawns for fawns on hunter's lawns

We're the has-beens of husbands

Sharpening the knives of young wives

Think you could find time call me when you get home?

Take your self apart find yourself with love.

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