Mad Trist Won't That Look Good On You
Little do I know about what I need, and so I'm stuck
Even with a little of luck, a sitting duck
They supply on every demand and so here comes the man
Singing in a carrying tone through his megaphone
Won't that look good on you? x3
Echoes ringing out through my head, like a parrot going
mad
Every single word that he said, the choir sang
I think I should consider the thought; it's exactly
what I sought
Fulfilling dreams that I never had, or at least not jet
Won't that look good on you? x3
Won't that look good on you? x3
What makes the greener grass so green?
It's the oil in the machine
It takes me here
It feels so real
What makes the oil run through the wheels?
Who makes the oil run through the wheels?
I think it's me
I think it's me
Now won't that
Look good on...
Me
