Lyrics:
Last year's troubles
Look at all the waifs of Dickensian England
Why is it their suffering is more picturesque?
Must because their rags are so very
wants it's all yours
[Chorus 1x in the background]
Our love is like a Romeo and Juliet film
So surreal but yet picturesque
There were problems I can
old desk
Ohwah, ohwah, ah ah ah ah
Ohwah, ohwah, ah
My old desk isn't picturesque
But it's happy as a desk can be
We never say a word
But it's
gave a fuck about the picturesque
Muscle arms
Muscle arms cooking up with baking soda
God never let my enemies
Mixed between insanity and Hova
Turning
She comes dressed like Sunday
String of pearls around her neck
Room of mirrors, days of lace
Porcelain and picturesque
Her eyes masquerade,
expressed
Every line, so picturesque
She let her walking do her talking
She's a brilliant conversationalist
She had so many nice things to say
And I
picturesque
Like mountains in the Midwest
Reaction creates the columns dark
And wide like the roads around Fort Lauderdale
The structures begin to take
At breakfast the effect is picturesque
The window opens up and lets in
The Santa Ana winds again
She's a silent love song
Never stays long
Does not belong
handle, up, no lame duck
It Should be overstood that I keep that thang tucked,
Sideways sittin, picturesque Framed up,
Always Down for the squad,
feet
and hold the earth in place
each time I curse you know
and sunlight pours in
A lifetime melts away
And we share a name
On some picturesque grave...
of your quest for me.
Picturesque is the picture you paint effortlessly.
And as our energies mix and begin to multiply.
Everyday situations, they start
the hills away
That steal our time
They are the picturesque night
The casting city lights
On the bay flowing into the ocean glowing
of the richter scale teetered and trembled
So beautifully warned
Picturesque hale shot through the windowsill
The glass splinters sailed through the innards
of the stream that'll always push you from me
To the reoccurring dream that makes reality less ugly
In a picturesque setting, where the world looks airbrushed
Who does not adore the sound
Of music in the name of towns
To build a city on such picturesque ground
That takes some sort of flair
We draw
a blur from a bullet train
A picturesque, old teahouse with a carp pond
As we trundled out of the tunnel
As we trundled out of the tunnel
of your quest for me
Picturesque is the picture you paint effortlessly
And as our energies mix and begin to multiply
Everyday situations, they start
good and high
Well trained and tame
Of sound heart and mind
In a picturesque place
Where the blind lead the blind
Liberties and justice unravelling like
finding a place
In these lost verses
They fill the foggy day
They hide the hills away
That steal our time
They are the picturesque night
The casting city
floating
Trying to make this minute stretch
Cause whats in my face is so picturesque
I mean, it even made me quit the cigarettes
I mean, shit I guess I
When you tell me the stories of your quest for me.
Picturesque is the picture you paint effortlessly.
And as our energies mix and begin
haven't caught my drift yet
Moments could be picturesque, you could be my Mrs.
I'm busy chasing queen heads, motivated infant
Tryna take everything
beneath my feet
And hold the earth in place
Each time a curtain opens
Sunlight pours in
A lifetime melts away
And we share a name
On some picturesque grave
Not far from Lhas in Tibet in picturesque valleys
There are some dusty debris of tumbledown abbeys
It's walls are keeping silence of bloody brutal
;_Claude_Gellée,_called_Le_Lorrain.jpg/300px-A_view_of_the_Roman_Campagna_from_Tivoli,_evening_(1644-5);_Claude_Gellée,_called_Le_Lorrain.jpg "Picturesque")
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