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Judd And Maggie
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Drizzle
When I'm parched I'm not myself
So don't pay notice to the twitching hand
It's just one more hint, one more shove
Makes it really hard to look composed
Every Sunday I think maybe I'd do better in an abbey
But come Monday...
That is when I start to drizzle and move quickly to a fizzle
Where do I go now to find what is missing
When all that is left is dripping?
This shivering doesn't shake this cold
Doesn't move blood to my icy hands
They're cracking without asking
I feel I'm about to decompose
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Every Sunday I think maybe I'd do better in an abbey
But come Monday...
That is when I start to drizzle and move quickly to a fizzle
Where do I go now to find what is missing
When all that is left is dripping?
That is when I start to drizzle and move quickly to a fizzle
Where do I go now to find what is missing
When all that is left is dripping?
Why don't gutters become rivers?
Apathetics leave the middle
Push me on over, move me to water
I want the world no longer
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