Pajama Pants Testo

Testo Pajama Pants

Andrea Faustini: dopo il flop ad X Factor Italia, è la star dell'edizione inglese
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(Verse)
Cold french-fries from last night lay
Beside dried ketchup on a white plate
With crumbs from a baked apple pie
And a cheeseburger bite that helped add to my weight
I press play on my iPod
Sitting on my dock fully charged
Pet sounds, serenades to the speakers
Wouldn’t it be nice if these dishes were washed?
Hot water and dish soap
Boles, plates, forks and chop sticks soaked
I scrub dirt in rink suds
I sing and hum with the voice of Bryan Wilson in love
In love with the thought of walking out this basement apartment and follow a road less travelled
An ostrich sing of old oblique ballads, the story of an artist behold with a chance to

(Hook x2)
He was a man so grudging, your buddy
Asked of life, that every win was a loss
He was a man so grudging, your buddy
Asked of life, that every win was a loss

(Verse)
Wouldn’t it be nice if I were younger?
Rewind a couple years and find hunger
Now I stick another candle in the cake
Another year without an album to my name
Barefoot in pajama pants, staring a young Derek held in my father’s hands
Frame, beside my three Juno nomination plaques
On a coffee table, beside my plaque doctor mask
I bought from Malabar for 200$ cash
It’s funny, you always called it an ostrich mask
I hit the key on a tiny piano
I played on the book cover and what Daniel Johnston sang
I take a sip from the pitcher on the Jonestown cover
Swallowing red instead of losing new expansion teams
I rather pour two gallons of gasoline on my shattered dreams
I flick the lighter with my thumb tip
Then drop the flame at my toes
I could’ve been a contender, a Jimmy come lately, a yesterday Jones

(Hook x3)
He was a man so grudging, your buddy
Asked of life, that every win was a loss
He was a man so grudging, your buddy
Asked of life, that every win was a loss

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