You said you hate the sound Of the busses on the ground You said you hate the way they scrape their bricks all over town Said pretend it's whales Keeping their voices down Such were the grounds for divorce i know On the radio And the bouncing bodies' drone | | Found eighteen reasons I can't pick up on the phone Said look at the clouds It's a show all on its own Such were the grounds for divorce i know But the dialing is dead We hit it on the head It looked like a wedding cake But the dialing is dead We hit it on the head |
It looked like a newlywed But I look at the lovers And they way they stand And the way they move and the way move their hands And I look at their babies And their tiny little hands And the way they get loved and the way they get loved Oh look at the lovers And they way they stand | | And the way they move and the way move and the way move their hands Said you hate the sound Of the busses on the ground Said you hate the way they scrape their bricks all over town Said pretend it's wales And keeping their voices down Such were the grounds for divorce i know Looked like a newlywed On the radio |
Where the fu** is I'll believe in anything you dizzler bi***es