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Brightside
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Next Time
My life is not a poem
It's just a dreamer's dumb idea
For lack of a shorter word
It's like an onomatopoeia
So come to terms with what you can
Because it's gone before you know it
My life is not a party
It's sort of like an omen
Rail a line coming to see you won't resolve
A bitter type coming to beat you up
Is a small, small part
A tortoise that's forever on its back
Will always beg for slower races
But slow and steady doesn't hack
When rabbits have the cuter faces
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Take a day, a break
Polish all of your lucky pennies and throw them away
Rail a line coming to see you won't resolve
A bitter type coming to beat you up
Is a small, small small small part
Polish all of your lucky pennies and throw them away
Polish all of your lucky pennies
Nah Nahda Nah Nah Nahda
Nah Nahda Nah Nah Nahda
Nah Nahda Nah Nah Nahda
Nah Nahda Nah Nah Nahda
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