The bricks get laid,
And they get torn up,
And laid again,
But the bricks always get torn up again.Your friends won't wait,
So don't believe that shit,
When they say they'll wait.
Trust me; your friends will not wait for you.
Then you'll be stoned in some park,
Just nodding your head and pinching your arms,
When a girl walks along.
She's humming your song,
With your t-shirt on.
That's when you're done,
Oh, that's when you're done.There's a cotton crush
Down in the southern states.
But back up here, man, we've got
So much thread and space
To waste, waste, waste.There's a microphone
Picking every word up
And it shuts itself off
When it's sure that's its heard enough.
Songwriters
DEVINE, KEVIN PATRICK / LACEY, JESSE / BRACCO, AMY / BRACCO, CHRIS / SKINNER, MIKEPublished by
Lyrics © Universal Music Publishing Group Song Discussions is protected by U.S. Patent 9401941. Other patents pending.