lirik lagu david webb's burning bush - slip em on, cut a rug
let’s get sushi
it’s my birthday
karaoke
it’s my birthday
i forgot to make plans, but, hey..!
been tryna play that game
lookin for the cheese
aww, for shame, for shame
boy, they’re ain’t no time to waste
take a hit of you straight to the face
im a little red tonight
chica-bawm-bawm
a bloke’s chokin!
it’s a new day
we should dance the dance
we’re gonna jump outa this box or burn it down
we are a match in hot pants
let’s dawn this new day
turn the hourgl-ss sands
we can hold hands
two betches in hot pants
i wish you would crawl up into my arms
i promise i will inflict minimal harm
i just paid half of my rent on these digs, babe
felt dumb but did it anyway
why don’t you and i slip em on and cut a rug at the bar?
let’s get sushi
it’s my birthday
karaoke
it’s my birthday
i forgot to make plans, but, hey
we don’t need itineraries
we’re a perfect pair, baby
i wish you would crawl up into my arms
i promise i will inflict minimal harm
i just paid half of my rent on these digs, babe
so i could look at you and say
why don’t you and i slip em on and cut a rug at the bar?
i’ve been drinkin coffee
feelin kinda weird
and not the cool kind, but the weird kind
that keeps weird the dirty word it is
the chip got my mouth fizzin
we’re so well acquainted from the time we spent laughin awkward
every time we felt fingers inchin towards the bomb
possibly ending everything
then a turn of events coined phrases of great affection from the chip to me
and that’s why we are lovers
love
birds out back window under billowing tufts of grey patched across blue endlessness
become the manifest heartsong of a burning bush bright with happiness
it’s a new day
we should dance the dance
we’re gonna jump outa this box or burn it down
we are a match in hot pants
let’s dawn this new day, boy
turn the hourgl-ss sands, boy
we can hold hands, boy
two betches in hot pants
i wish you would crawl up into my arms
i promise i will inflict minimal harm
i just outed myself buying these digs, babe
nothin left to lose, so hey
why don’t you and i slip em on and cut a rug at the bar?
we don’t need itineraries
we’re a perfect pair, baby
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