Dĺžka piesne: 03:12
Sweetly sung and succinctly stated, words and music he calculated to make you sing along (with your stereo on, as you stand in your shorts on your lawn) get completely incorporated by some couple who consummated their first love by the dawn – a falling star wished upon that flashed in the sky and was gone.
And, mouths wet and blonde hair braided, by the back room the kids all waited to meet the man in bright green who had dreamed up the dream that they wrecked their hearts upon – the liar who lied in his pop song.
He’s the liar who lied in his pop song, and you’re lying when you sing along. So here’s to car seats so cruelly weighted.
And here’s to faces already faded, at the end of a day when they just threw away the only good thing that they owned, and now they’re pinned down and strangulated.
But, at the food court, the float’s inflated and people line up to see the man who dreamed up the dream that they wrecked their hearts upon, the liar who lied in his pop song.
Week by week it climbs up and comes on, and we’re feeling all right, though we know it’s all wrong.
I’m ashamed to admit that I cannot resist what I wish were the truth but is not.
And I truly believe that we’re not strong, and we’ll sing until our voices are gone, and then sink beneath the manicured lawn.
(This is respectfully dedicated to the woman who concentrated all of her love to find that she had wasted it on the liar who lied in his song.)
And, mouths wet and blonde hair braided, by the back room the kids all waited to meet the man in bright green who had dreamed up the dream that they wrecked their hearts upon – the liar who lied in his pop song.
He’s the liar who lied in his pop song, and you’re lying when you sing along. So here’s to car seats so cruelly weighted.
And here’s to faces already faded, at the end of a day when they just threw away the only good thing that they owned, and now they’re pinned down and strangulated.
But, at the food court, the float’s inflated and people line up to see the man who dreamed up the dream that they wrecked their hearts upon, the liar who lied in his pop song.
Week by week it climbs up and comes on, and we’re feeling all right, though we know it’s all wrong.
I’m ashamed to admit that I cannot resist what I wish were the truth but is not.
And I truly believe that we’re not strong, and we’ll sing until our voices are gone, and then sink beneath the manicured lawn.
(This is respectfully dedicated to the woman who concentrated all of her love to find that she had wasted it on the liar who lied in his song.)