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Tiny Streams - Psychotic Waltz.lrc

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[00:14.43]Morning Sun begins the day
[00:17.45]Mothers child has gone away
[00:20.79]Locked inside the game that they taught him all to play
[00:27.24]Closet city sleeping pretty tired from the day
[00:32.78]And if he leaves the tiny porch light dim
[00:36.78]He'll keep the dogs at bay
[00:42.08]
[00:50.70]Snotty little brat he plays
[00:54.13]Never puts his toys away
[00:57.16]Breaks the ones he's used if they don't sparkle anymore
[01:03.65]Dollies in the playhouse kissing
[01:06.97]All their little heads are missing
[01:10.08]Chop their tiny hands with this thing
[01:13.34]That's what daddy bought them for
[01:18.68]
[01:44.50]Red and white's turned blue today
[01:56.23]I laught to dry the tear away
[02:04.50]
[02:05.91]Sitting in my ceilings face
[02:08.15]This boiling rainbow webbing places
[02:11.28]Smiles soft anger feeling shapes
[02:13.83]Of mouths and hands in sonic scapes
[02:16.91]Fingers spanning psychic burning
[02:19.88]Black Sabbath record turning
[02:22.62]Pools of vision, understanding
[02:25.53]Forms absorb to keep from laughing
[02:28.54]Climb the walls, half inside them
[02:31.32]Other side, air is thin there
[02:34.10]Friends inside pull me to them
[02:36.90]Cannot keep from laughing, laughing
[02:39.86]
[03:22.74]Solo
[03:49.39]
[04:08.24]Ripples from the portholes making contact
[04:12.15]Center bending circles
[04:14.79]Growing echoes of each other
[04:17.94]Float reflections of this covered
[04:21.74]Consciousness inside this eggshell
[04:24.45]Masterpieces scattered not well
[04:27.89]Spoken yet still undertaken
[04:30.82]Tiny streams of orchestration
[04:34.13]Flow into this fisheye car ride
[04:37.39]Leaning close to catch his good side
[04:41.47]Tiny streams of orchestration
文本歌词
Morning Sun begins the day
Mothers child has gone away
Locked inside the game that they taught him all to play
Closet city sleeping pretty tired from the day
And if he leaves the tiny porch light dim
He'll keep the dogs at bay
Snotty little brat he plays
Never puts his toys away
Breaks the ones he's used if they don't sparkle anymore
Dollies in the playhouse kissing
All their little heads are missing
Chop their tiny hands with this thing
That's what daddy bought them for
Red and white's turned blue today
I laught to dry the tear away
Sitting in my ceilings face
This boiling rainbow webbing places
Smiles soft anger feeling shapes
Of mouths and hands in sonic scapes
Fingers spanning psychic burning
Black Sabbath record turning
Pools of vision, understanding
Forms absorb to keep from laughing
Climb the walls, half inside them
Other side, air is thin there
Friends inside pull me to them
Cannot keep from laughing, laughing
Solo
Ripples from the portholes making contact
Center bending circles
Growing echoes of each other
Float reflections of this covered
Consciousness inside this eggshell
Masterpieces scattered not well
Spoken yet still undertaken
Tiny streams of orchestration
Flow into this fisheye car ride
Leaning close to catch his good side
Tiny streams of orchestration