Robert Mulrennan - Don't Think lyrics

[Verse 1: Joe Horton:] Inked up temptress in a see through dress Sipping pink umbrella drinks in the swell of strings before the tempest come I met her at the multiplex Tried to catch her with a faulty net ‘ Acted like I let her go Then I wrote a letter home Mourning all the beauty in my past that I would never know again In the center fold, I spit, giving up the last bit of her I had to give Flickering kiss ‘ Ravenous lips on a salty neck Yet, with all due respect to the sentences I could never end ‘em so I sent ‘em where the skeptics live Bottled at the bottom of river with the messages Lesson is, objects of affection turn to fetishes quick Awkward in the dark then shark fin flinch Blood slick in the water ‘ Caught a whiff Lifted up a mirror ‘ Aimed it at her softer parts Just another trick that I borrowed from Oliver Hart Left the theater with a knee jerk Reaction to the caption saying Samson you don't need her Years later and I'm blissfully bald But every now and then I get a glimpse of what it's like when pillars fall [homesick feedback ‘ Reeling ‘ Tin can cut string taunt red calls from last evening] No bottom to the feeling ‘ Merciless bent space ‘ It hurts that it hurts to see her face In the depth of the pain one wave rippling intricate shapes So complicated a simple brain would be insane to be sane When did it start? [It didn't] How does it stop? [it doesn't] Glad to know I'm doing all of this for nothing [Hook:] I hate how you don't know how much I hate how you don't know How beautiful I think you don't think you are I hate how you don't know how much I hate how you don't know How beautiful I think you don't think you are [Verse 2: Sage Francis:] Whatever I was cracked up to be might've s**ed to me So I cracked myself up whether or not anyone else thought it was funny Touchy feely sensitive scum of the mother earthlings Depressed by the wonderful number the caged bird sings Surfs up on that vanishing coastline. Man who is post-prime Denies the damages though he's covered in bandages the whole time Manages to co-sign the next up and coming act Depletes the gold mine front to back, s**ing' blood and pocketing cash Under the table, over the heads of the gullible youth director collective No test of leadership, no truth detector Attempting to resist the transition from playfully crazy to plain old crazy Just break the mold maybe I can't hold your baby, I already told the lady this But if they overpay me, I'll bankroll your laziness I've gotta get an alias that's different. Get a new face And finally fix the zipper on my suitcase Skip to my Lou Farigno As I walk down this dusty road with ripped jeans, big dreams & inflatable pillow A brillo notepad for rough sketches and love letters For faux pas fashionistas with a fascination for ugly sweaters Correspondence sent directly from the trenches So it might not reach you til after I've served my sentence If you happen to be married I'll be happy to k** him for a small fee Signed, yours forever and always Paulie [Hook:]