Chicken

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    Let me the stock and the chicken
    Put them right onto the kitchen counter
    Leave them there for me for when I come home
    Your episodic panic finished when a minstrel made a visit
    Just to smother all the principles you're holding so close

    You grew so mighty old, so mighty mean
    Perhaps your tiny favors will lend to a mending
    And I'll forgive for everything
    A simple telegram would do to bring some gleaning
    To the meaning of your bricolage
    You've gathered out in the drive, staring at the car in park
    Have you grown fond enough?

    That awful parable, that hunted need
    Collapse my tiny office, take what you want
    And I won't eat for anything
    But uh, don't you think it would be harder now
    To clamp down on our racing hearts, throw them out?
    Give us something, keep the bleeding down
    Just give us something for the brining

    But darling you could be in high society
    It's not a matter of opinion, oh no, it's a matter to be
    And I could say or stress or think what I want
    Darling, I don't make a difference, oh no, it's not a matter of me

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    Why don't we reinforce old habits
    Watch the ceiling for the attic
    Keeping idle, scanning static
    And impress all we know?
    But if you're feeling that you'd rather
    Teach a lesson, tease a pattern
    That I'm grown and I can't even
    Make a dish on my own

    You're awful reticent for being clean
    I'll throw my moods until they break down the door
    Because I won't pretend for anything

    But uh, don't you think it would be harder now
    To clamp down on our racing hearts, throw them out?
    Give us something, keep the bleeding down
    Just give us something for the brining in our mouths
    In our mouths
    In our mouths
    In our mouths...

    It was stemming from this place that we knew
    And we were strumming early habits on a saw
    And we were killing all our time clipping leaflets
    So needlessly while we grieve all our misses on our sleeves

    And uh, don't you think it would be harder now
    To clamp down on our racing hearts, throw them out?
    Give us something to keep the bleeding down
    Just give us something for the brining in our mouths
    In our mouths
    In our mouths
    In our mouths...

    Información de la canción

    Composición: Tamara Jafar y J. Peter Durniak

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