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