Lyrics:
We are Microphone addicts Some verbal magicians You know Metaphors brushes We Painting some pictures I know Vinyl my mattress I sleep with the Tunes
Then pictures we lost but the paint hasn’t yet dried Brushes will come clean Brushes they’ll get clean Brushes they'll always wash clean But censurable
people Who promise you the world For a dirty nickel But none of that sticks to me It brushes off Like oil on summer skin Like sea salt in the wind It
Painting my pictures with broken brushes Painting my pictures with broken brushes Stumbling over the empty buckets I dropped another one another one
pulled the hair From our brushes I pulled the hair From our brushes Thank you for leaving the light on I'm sorry I didn't make it home I'm actually
I only got 2 minutes So I gotta spill my soul, Drain da blood out my vains Swipe my brushes thu da bowl, Draw my dreams onto dis canvas Scribble
she really wants Her colors of inconsistency Ambitiously brushes the dance floor As she's moving and grooving through her wishes That no one can deny
to wash up and to clean up, be your sex maid Beast bitch in the sheets Cocky and flawless on the street Burying my brushes in money Drink my tears My body
Her cold lips are drawing near Her rasping breath that brushes clear A shiver runs through my being The kiss of death is foreseeing Time stands
hey hey You can't run you don't know what's at stake Take it away, hey hey Paint this town red with brushes shaped like knives And now we're in
Swishes his cape, swishes his cape The vampire on the bus swishes his cape Happy Halloween! The witch on the bus brushes her broom Brushes her broom,
instead Act like everything's fine She brushes off her shoulder What he did wasn't right She won't do what he told her Act like everything's fine She
teeth brush his teeth brush his teeth Bebefinn likes to brush his teeth Sparkly And whenever Bebefinn brushes Bebefinn brushes Bebefinn brushes
selling brushes door to door The ladies know me well they're buying what I sell But I never let `em ask for any more And I never put my toes in a door
paint myself into corners anymore In a brittle heart of clay I threw my brushes away The tools of the trade that chained your memory to me Are out
His sticks can bring down the house He makes all kinds of sounds He brushes like a breeze in the trees His rhythm brings you to your knees He's
a moth to a flame?" She brushes my face with her smile "forget about stars for a while" As she melts Meanwhile millions of miles away in space
My early morning sunshine with her long golden hair Brings my cup of coffee to my bed And her silken nightdress brushes cross my chest as she bends
Should we keep going? (yeah) Alright, you got it You know, Clayton, everytime I hear that Fred Astaire beat That you're playing with those brushes I
Fuck your head up In all type of ways I know its visits I aint paid up Couple dollars couple brushes Send some prayers up Til then man its free my niggaz
do a check up Sora too sick and I push it like I'm Pepa So I open up the show storyteller with a dress up Brushes on my face say they wanna do a makeup
fall in love again. Cold touch arrows piercing my skin Felt tip brushes over my eyes like spiders crawling up my arms feeding off my imagination like
gone out As he brushes away a tear To keep from his suit getting wet He tells stories from back through the years He says son, there are some things I'll
really knew they existed But I found the first when I saw him I love yous are overrated Moments of silence Hearing a cadence Cashmere brushes one another
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