Matrimony Is Paving The Way For Preplanned Alchemy
Ryan Ross
As the rain falls, my umbrella doesn't always work
drip drop drip drop splish splashing in my brain
It's a flood honey, a real mach five
Oh dear, I fear a dreadful drizzle my dear
It's time to fly south with the mice
Dripping dripping dripping in my Sunday morning tea
One lump or two? How do you do? It's the monopoly guy
These mice aren't blind, baby, but I guess they don't see the light
But you know, maybe it's just dark or something baby, I don't know
It could be the wool pulled over their eyes
by father time or a gardening bird
I like to write but my hands aren't working for me
I've just created the unabated understatement of the century
It could be the wool pulled over my eyes
but that's just a refrain
