Letra de A Nervous Tic Motion Of The Head To The Left - Andrew Bird
Letra de canci�n de A Nervous Tic Motion Of The Head To The Left de Andrew Bird lyrics
Over prescribed
Under the mister
We had survived to turn on the history channel
And ask our esteemed panel why are we alive?
And here�s how they replied
You�re what happens when two substances collide
And by all accounts you really should�ve died
Stretched out on the tarmac
Six miles south of north platte
He can�t stand to look back
At sixteen tons of hazmat
And it�s what goes
Undelivered undelivered
And it�s a nervous tic motion of the head to the left
It�s a nervous tic motion of the head to the left
Exorcise your cells till you�re bereft
https://www.coveralia.com/letras/a-nervous-tic-motion-of-the-head-to-the-left-andrew-bird.php
�cause it�s a nervous tic motion of the head to the left
Splayed out on a bathmat
Six miles north of south platte
And he just wants his life back
What�s in that paper knapsack
It�s what goes undelivered
Over imbibed
Under the mister
Barely alive we
Cover the blisters in flannel
Though the words we speak are banal
Not one of them�s a lie
Not one of them�s a lie
You�re what happens when two substances collide
And by all accounts you really should�ve died
Under the mister
We had survived to turn on the history channel
And ask our esteemed panel why are we alive?
And here�s how they replied
You�re what happens when two substances collide
And by all accounts you really should�ve died
Stretched out on the tarmac
Six miles south of north platte
He can�t stand to look back
At sixteen tons of hazmat
And it�s what goes
Undelivered undelivered
And it�s a nervous tic motion of the head to the left
It�s a nervous tic motion of the head to the left
Exorcise your cells till you�re bereft
https://www.coveralia.com/letras/a-nervous-tic-motion-of-the-head-to-the-left-andrew-bird.php
�cause it�s a nervous tic motion of the head to the left
Splayed out on a bathmat
Six miles north of south platte
And he just wants his life back
What�s in that paper knapsack
It�s what goes undelivered
Over imbibed
Under the mister
Barely alive we
Cover the blisters in flannel
Though the words we speak are banal
Not one of them�s a lie
Not one of them�s a lie
You�re what happens when two substances collide
And by all accounts you really should�ve died