| Lyric | Song title |
|---|
| 'It's nine in the afternoon, and your eyes are the size of the moon' | |
| 'Cause I'm bluffin' with my muffin, I'm not lying I'm just stunnin' with my love-glue-gunning' | |
| '...Richard Nixon back again, Moonshot, Woodstock, Watergate, punk rock' | |
| 'The social pages say I've got the biggest balls of all' | |
| 'I don't know what I'm to say, but, I'll say it anyway! | |
| 'It's nice to be a lunatic, Hit me! Hit me! Hit me!' | |
| 'I am I said, to no-one there, and no-one heard at all, not even the chair' | |
| 'With eyes that looked like ice on fire' | |
| | Lyric | Song title |
|---|
| 'Back to back, sacrailiac, spineless movement and a wild attack' | |
| 'Stinky weather, fat shaky hands, dopey morning doc' | |
| 'I mix your milk wit my cocoa puff, milky milky cocoa, mix your milk wit my cocoa puff, milky milky riiiiight' | |
| 'I have a secret to tell, from my electrical well, it's a simple message and I'm leaving out the whistles and bells' | |
| 'Everytime I look around, it's in my face' | |
| 'We can dance, we can dance, everybody look at your hands' | |
| 'I know it sounds funny but I just can't stand the pain' | |
| 'To tear out from your eyes with a board to stiffen brooding lies' | |
|
'The' Bands
Musician by Picture
Figure Out the Disney Lyrics II
