Song parody of
an ode to you
by MOL$
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Where do you hide all your purple tones?
Where do you hide when they're crossing over?
Simpler times, all your dolls have grown up
He ached and he cried when you ceased to exist
You didn't mind, now did ya?
Simpler times, pale blue residual
Ugh
An ode to those who drank from lithe
Sweet child of mine, your father's grown feeble
Blind to the flash but the thunderstorm goes on
And on, and on, and on, and on
Ohhh an ode to those who have fallen
An ode to those in the back
A new sunrise paints us orange
An ode to you my friend
I might listen to you you talking
If you promise to digress
The truth is, I have fallen
And slipped into the crack
Ulysses odyssey is over
The devil killed the angel on his back
Took a seat right on his shoulder
Promising to never snap his neck
His motives and goals have grown colder
Souls have grown to something to dissect
Maybe if he finds one that's truly innocent
It's essence could then help him to forget
An ode to those who drank from lithe
Sweet child of mine, your father's grown feeble
Blind to the flash but the thunderstorm goes on
And on, and on, and on, and on
Where do you hide all your purple tones?
Where do you hide when they're crossing over?
Simpler times, all your dolls have grown up
He ached and he cried when you ceased to exist
You didn't mind, now did ya?
Simpler times, pale blue residual
Ugh
An ode to those who drank from lithe
Sweet child of mine, your father's grown feeble
Blind to the flash but the thunderstorm goes on
And on, and on, and on, and on
Ohhh an ode to those who have fallen
An ode to those in the back
A new sunrise paints us orange
An ode to you my friend
I might listen to you you talking
If you promise to digress
The truth is, I have fallen
And slipped into the crack
Ulysses odyssey is over
The devil killed the angel on his back
Took a seat right on his shoulder
Promising to never snap his neck
His motives and goals have grown colder
Souls have grown to something to dissect
Maybe if he finds one that's truly innocent
It's essence could then help him to forget
An ode to those who drank from lithe
Sweet child of mine, your father's grown feeble
Blind to the flash but the thunderstorm goes on
And on, and on, and on, and on
