Artist Name: # A B C D E F G H I J K L M N O P Q R S T U V W X Y Z
Song Title: # A B C D E F G H I J K L M N O P Q R S T U V W X Y Z

Watsky - Tiny Glowing Screens 2 Lyrics

Theres 7 billion 46 million people on the planet
And most of us have the audacity to think we matter
Hey, you hear the one about the comedian who croaked?
Someone stabbed him in the heart, just a little poke
But he keeled over cause he went into battle wearing chain mail made of jokes
Hey, you hear the one about the screenwriter who passed away?
He was giving elevator pitches and the elevator got stuck halfway
He ended up eating smushed sandwiches they pushed through a crack in the door
And repeating the same crappy screenplay idea about talking dogs 'til his last day
Hey, you hear the one about the fisherman who passed?
He didnt jump off that ledge
He just stepped out into the air and pulled the ground up towards him really fast
Like he was pitching a line and went fishing for concrete
The earth is a drum and hes hitting it on beat
The reason theres smog in Los Angeles is cause if we could see the stars
If we could see the context of the universe in which we exist
And we could see how small each one of us is
Against the vastness of what we dont know
No one would ever audition for a McDonalds commercial again
And then where would we be?
No frozen dinners and no TV
And is that a world we want to text in?
Either someone just microwaved popcorn
Or I hear the sound of a thousand people pulling their heads out of their asses in rapid succession
The people are hunched over in Boston
Theyre starting app stores and screen printing companies in San Francisco
Theyre grinning in Los Angeles like theyve got fishhooks in the corners of their mouth
But dont paint me like the good guy cause every time I write
I get to choose the angle that you view me and select the nicest light
You wouldnt respect me if you heard the typewriter chatter tap tap
Tapping through my mind at night
The same stupid tape loop of old sitcom dialogue
And tattered memories of a girl I got to grind on in high school
Filed carefully on rice paper
My heart is a colored pencil
But my brain is an eraser
I dont want a real girl, I want to trace her from a catalogue
Truth be told Im unlikely to hold you down
Cause my soul is a crowded subway train
And people keep deciding to get on the next one that rolls through town
Im joining a false movement in San Francisco
Im frowning and hunched over in Boston
Im smiling in Los Angeles like Ive got fishhooks in the corners of my mouth
And Im celebrating on weekends
Because there are 7 billion 47 million people on the planet
And I have the audacity to think I matter
I know its a lie but I prefer it to the alternative
Because Ive got a tourniquet tied at my elbow / Ive got
A blunt wrap filled with compliments and Im burnin it
You say to go to sleep but I been bouncing off my bedroom walls since I was hecka small
Were every age at once and tucked inside ourselves like Russian nesting dolls
My mother is an 8 year old girl
My grandson is a 74 year old retiree whose kidneys just failed
And thats the glue between me and you
Thats the screws and nails
We live in a house made of each other
And if that sounds strange thats because it is
Someone please freeze time so I can run around turning everyones pockets inside out
And remember, you didnt see shit

Watsky lyrics

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Copyright: Lyrics © Kobalt Music Publishing Ltd.

Songwriters: George Watsky