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Cookout
Me in Capris
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The way I see it someone must've died
Whether it's parallel lines, or family ties, I can hear soft eyes
You told me there was nothing left to hide
Then why, oh why, are both you whispering all the time?
This personality crisis, could it get him a job?
I told you there ain't nothing you can hide
On these parallel lines, I sniff your lies out every time
And at the cookout, I'll spill my guts on every floor
While everyone is licking all of them crumbs right up
This personality crisis, could it get him a job?
We've waited so long
For something to happen and we've
Listened to his songs
No wonder why it hasn't, have you
Heard the kid's songs?
No wonder why it hasn't, yeah
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