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"Good evenin' ya'll, welcome to the Fuzzy Doggy" Yeah, he saw a lot of shit and talked a lot of shit He tried to stay on top of it but did the opposite And when it started comin' apart The poor man thought he did the obvious And hopped inside a tour van He was a roadie for your favorite indie-what band Big enough to make the cool kids say: "Fuck them" He was a sucker sellin' merch for the summer Thought it sounded fun and it made a little bread 'n butter "I love ya," the last words heard as the bus pulls away from the curb (From the curb) As it pulled on the 94 he forgot about the line and the crime and the times before Already missed her Bitch-made, lift her, switchblade, pull her, ribcage, quivers Leave a message, chokin' on the vocals Callas on the finger he uses to dial the mobile A week into it he was a freak, he knew it A nervous wreck, couldn't sleep he couldn't do shit He hadn't heard from her in a couple days "What? You too busy? C'mon, give me a fuckin' break" You want an explanation Cause right now you feelin' just a little exploitation Phone call found home in a sound Calm down now, don't let the walls all fall down now Letras de canciones"You are teaching yourself to play the keyboard? What kind of bullshit is that? Oh, are you for real? Thats why you didn't call me back?" Well alright Just try to make it through the tour alive Soon enough you get to drive up 35 Gotta survive a little more time on the road before you get to go home to your life And when the shit looks familiar You know it didn't kill ya Just more dirt in the filter When you get up in the house You can sit her on the couch And show her what its really all about now And maybe she will serenade you (Play me something) With a song that she wrote for you (Yeah, yeah, show me- play me somethin) Because she missed you (Play me somethin!) And she loves you, right? Honey, I'm home! But your shits all gone And you're gone too Yo, this shits all wrong She packed up and moved out Bagged up and flew out the nest I guess she had to track up a new route What? She took the keyboard It's for the best She'll need something to do when she gets depressed And when you get obsessed You can spend your breath Lookin' out the window waitin' for her footsteps And not a single dream goes by Without the pretty little fingers making notes fly Middle of the night, tryin to sleep But you hear her at the front door fuckin' with her keys Now she thinks of you When she plays those keys She knows which notes she ain't write on her own Theres no way to make her wait and stay lonely But maybe someday your baby might have a home Now she thinks of you When she plays those keys She knows which notes she ain't write on her own Theres no way to make her wait and stay lonely But maybe someday your baby might have a home Now she thinks of you When she plays those keys She knows which notes she ain't write on her own Theres no way to make her wait and stay lonely But maybe someday your baby might have a home When I hear her songs It makes the sun shut down It doesn't come back until she goes away I wait until the day she don't come around And I listen to the sound of no more to say "I got nothing to say to you. For real. I'm gonna get off the phone now. Yeah. Have a good night" (Night, night, night, night, night, night, night, night, night, night, night, night, night, night, night, night, night, night, night, night, night, night) From Letras Mania