|
Lyric
|
|
My
|
|
dad
|
|
can't
|
|
get
|
|
out
|
|
of
|
|
bed
|
|
There's
|
|
something
|
|
in
|
|
his
|
|
lungs
|
|
I
|
|
think
|
|
that's
|
|
what
|
|
the
|
|
doctor
|
|
said
|
|
I
|
|
gotta
|
|
leave
|
|
for
|
|
Paris
|
|
now
|
|
My
|
|
band
|
|
goes
|
|
on
|
|
at
|
|
ten
|
|
And
|
|
my
|
|
dad
|
|
can't
|
|
get
|
|
out
|
|
of
|
|
bed
|
|
The
|
|
Earth
|
|
is
|
|
spinning
|
|
like
|
|
it
|
|
|
Lyric
|
|
always
|
|
did
|
|
The
|
|
New
|
|
York
|
|
Times
|
|
is
|
|
publishing
|
|
Some
|
|
real
|
|
important
|
|
thing
|
|
And
|
|
each
|
|
day
|
|
when
|
|
the
|
|
world
|
|
wakes
|
|
up
|
|
Our
|
|
lawns
|
|
will
|
|
still
|
|
be
|
|
wet
|
|
And
|
|
my
|
|
dad
|
|
can't
|
|
get
|
|
out
|
|
of
|
|
bed
|
|
God
|
|
is
|
|
really
|
|
real
|
|
When
|
|
you
|
|
really,
|
|
really
|
|
need
|
|
him
|
|
Karma
|
|
|
Lyric
|
|
just
|
|
appears
|
|
When
|
|
you
|
|
suddenly
|
|
believe
|
|
it
|
|
Hear
|
|
it
|
|
loud
|
|
and
|
|
clear
|
|
Just
|
|
as
|
|
long
|
|
as
|
|
it's
|
|
convenient
|
|
Life's
|
|
fuckin'
|
|
long
|
|
'til
|
|
it
|
|
stops
|
|
And
|
|
God's
|
|
fuckin'
|
|
fake
|
|
'til
|
|
he's
|
|
not
|
|
There's
|
|
robots
|
|
that
|
|
are
|
|
way
|
|
too
|
|
good
|
|
at
|
|
art
|
|
And
|
|
everybody's
|
|
sad
|
|
now
|
|
And
|
|
|
Lyric
|
|
tryna
|
|
get
|
|
to
|
|
Mars
|
|
Don't
|
|
wanna
|
|
hear
|
|
your
|
|
problems
|
|
'Cause
|
|
there's
|
|
just
|
|
one
|
|
in
|
|
my
|
|
head
|
|
And
|
|
he
|
|
can't
|
|
get
|
|
out
|
|
of
|
|
bed
|
|
What
|
|
if
|
|
we
|
|
could
|
|
break
|
|
you
|
|
out
|
|
tonight?
|
|
This
|
|
kind
|
|
of
|
|
thing
|
|
happens
|
|
to
|
|
other
|
|
dads
|
|
It
|
|
don't
|
|
happen
|
|
to
|
|
mine
|
|
I'll
|
|
|
Lyric
|
|
distract
|
|
the
|
|
doctors
|
|
We
|
|
could
|
|
sneak
|
|
out
|
|
with
|
|
your
|
|
meds
|
|
You
|
|
could
|
|
come
|
|
along
|
|
And
|
|
be
|
|
a
|
|
roadie
|
|
for
|
|
the
|
|
band
|
|
Come
|
|
on,
|
|
dad,
|
|
get
|
|
out
|
|
of
|
|
bed
|
|
God
|
|
is
|
|
really
|
|
real
|
|
When
|
|
you
|
|
really,
|
|
really
|
|
need
|
|
him
|
|
Karma
|
|
just
|
|
appears
|
|
When
|
|
you
|
|
suddenly
|
|
|
Lyric
|
|
believe
|
|
it
|
|
Hear
|
|
it
|
|
loud
|
|
and
|
|
clear
|
|
Just
|
|
as
|
|
long
|
|
as
|
|
it's
|
|
convenient
|
|
Life's
|
|
fuckin'
|
|
long
|
|
'til
|
|
it
|
|
stops
|
|
And
|
|
God's
|
|
fuckin'
|
|
fake
|
|
'til
|
|
he's
|
|
not
|
|
Now
|
|
it's
|
|
late,
|
|
I
|
|
really
|
|
gotta
|
|
go
|
|
We
|
|
can't
|
|
face
|
|
our
|
|
feelings
|
|
So
|
|
we're
|
|
making
|
|
lots
|
|
of
|
|
jokes
|
|
|
Lyric
|
|
And
|
|
we
|
|
won't
|
|
cry
|
|
about
|
|
it
|
|
No,
|
|
we'll
|
|
be
|
|
manly
|
|
men
|
|
I
|
|
love
|
|
you
|
|
sounds
|
|
all
|
|
corny
|
|
So
|
|
I
|
|
wrote
|
|
this
|
|
song
|
|
instead
|
|
I'll
|
|
sing
|
|
it
|
|
for
|
|
you,
|
|
dad
|
|
When
|
|
you
|
|
get
|
|
out
|
|
of
|
|
bed
|
|
I'll
|
|
sing
|
|
for
|
|
you
|
|
when
|
|
you're
|
|
out
|
|
of
|
|
bed
|
|