And I never truly hated anyone or anything
And moldy heads and pissing on sugarcubes
This place is full of dirty old men
This place is full of dirty old men
And he's been coming around here
And moldy heads and pissing on sugarcubes
She says I'd prefer the moss
They say, feel the waltz, feel the waltz
I got to get me out of here
20 years of clean
And the navigators with their mappy maps
20 years of clean
She's 20 years of clean
He's a dying breed
I'd prefer the mouth
I'm 20 years of clean
While you stare at your boots
But I got to get me out of here
She's 20 years of strangers looking into each other's eyes
And the navigators with their mappy maps
And the words float out like holograms
Feel the waltz, feel the waltz
Come on, baby, baby, now feel the waltz
And the words float out like holograms
She's a dying breed
He's a wounded animal
And the words float out like holograms
She's a dying breed
She never truly hated anyone or anything
His daughter is 20 years of snow falling
He's a dying breed
A baby of the south
A baby of the swamps
