Tekster:
Panic At The Disco Pretty Odd

ever hold me She spun the stars on her fingernails But it never made her happy Because she couldn?t ever have me She said she'd won the world at a carnival

Back to the street where we began Feeling as good as lovers can, you know Yeah, we're feeling so good Picking up things we shouldn't read It looks like

you go down Sugarcane in the easy morning Weather vanes my one and lonely The ink is running toward the page, it?s chasing off the days Look back at

the branches of a Christmas tree Preached the devil in the belfry He checked in to learn his clothes Had been thieved at the train station The rope hung his other branch And at

Go On Innocence. Sunk the glow and drowned in covers, send for all your absent lovers things. Sheepish Wolves. Looking lived in eating buttons, Wink

I won't cut my beard and I won't change my hair It grows like fancy flowers but it grows nowhere My hair, my hair If I could build my house just like

Things are shaping up to be pretty odd Little deaths in musical beds So it seems I'm someone I've never met You will only hear these elegant crimes Fall

Our daydream spills from my gold head Breaks free of my wooden neck Left a nod over sleeping waves Like bobbing bait for bathing cod Floating flocks of

: Back to the streets where we began Feeling as good as lovers can, you know Well, now we're feeling so good Pickin? up things we shouldn?t read It