Mathilda

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Mathilda - Little Comets
Oh decry with these two fingers
I can show you why
That I'm restricted
When you kiss me so promiscuously
I'll be screaming go-tilly-go
Oh delay without these shackles
I can show the way to make you obfuscate
And push aside utensils
I'll be screaming go-tilly-go
When all this commotion dies down
She'll deliver a subtle soliloquy
Straight to his pillow
Which frowns as she strikes it
With fists that insist
The light of their fridge door
Was always a metaphor
I'm bewildered
So please explain to me right now Mathilda
How all the friction in your diction
Leaves me staring at you
I'm still screaming go-tilly-go
I'll decide with these two fingers
I can show you why
Despite my lethargy and mispronunciation
I'll be screaming go-tilly-go
When all this commotion dies down
She'll deliver a subtle soliloquy
So full of agony
He'll be embarrassed
And walk on the terrace
Whose slate floor he always found
Seemed like a metaphor
Aaiiiiii
P-r-o-m-i-s-e-s
The promises
P-r-o-m-i-s-e-s
The promises
Aaiiiiii
P-r-o-m-i-s-e-s
The promises
P-r-o-m-i-s-e-s
The promises
Aaiiiiii
Aaiiiiii
The promises
Aaiiiiii
The promises
Aaiiiiii