Page France Talking Out-louds
You left a bad, bad sound in my mouth
From all the talk-a, talk-a, talking out-louds
When momma warned me not to peep out of sound
You made a bad, bad sound in her mouth
They left a big, big hole in our wall
And always swinging like a wrecking ball
Oh, how the world looks from ten feet tall
Oh, how I never meant to feel so small
There was green on the grass
There was blue in the sky, so high
And I was sliding around
They were calling me down the way
We left a trail, a trail of feet on the ground
From all the stomp, stomp, stomping around
We got and would've never been found
We left a trail, a trail of feet on the ground
We took a little bit of hell from the fire
It burned us all for being gluttoning liars
While all the squeaky cleaners went somewhere higher
All of us dirty birdies flew in the fire
There was green on the grass
There was blue in the sky, so high
And I was sliding around
They were calling me down the way
There was green on the grass
There was blue in the sky, so high
And I was sliding around
They were calling me down the way
They were calling me down the way
