
this ticking tone - drive45 lyrics
[verse 1]
sh*thead, i shout, i said, don’t put wear on your tread
don’t you worry about me, i’m not down and out
i live and i die by grout, your bed has drowned
lost to junk, now i sleep on top bunk
oh, palindrome, i don’t think you’re coming home
and this tick tick ticking tone is baking in my bones
[chorus]
freak of frequent sync, i love to twist comma tinker
dae*da*dalus my thinker, c*c*callus my finger
i make trinket sing for me when i twist and i torque it
solder cache to the corcuit, put trash where i put gorbadge
in short, i’m quartz, clipping cranky to clunky
isopropyling gunky gear cog ogley thunking
and i work my way, but my way was the bad way
the now what’s this doodad way have now had way
[verse 2]
put one hand to two o’clock to say h*llo
one hand to two o’clock to say h*llo
put one hand to three o’clock to say gеt out just go
one hand to three o’clock to say get out just go
hand at four or five i ask for fivе down low
i tick to six, it seems you were too slow
get no fives at seven ’cause five lesson
so for eight i make expression
while i table wait from nine to ten
i’m free at eleven but now i’m tired
[verse 3]
no goo got, so dinner is di*not
sight of grout and bite my tongue
rules here aren’t ’cause missy parry parnt
and i hate the taste of you’re too young
should have been p*ssing my pants but i was p*ssing me off
’cause my incapable hands couldn’t make capable clock
but now my ticked off clock won’t
stop stop stop stop stop stop stop
[verse 4]
longer the crow flies, stronger the know size
riding the low highs, make clock go clock
wiser and worser, frog throat converser
clockn’t reverser, you’re cursing precursor
so b*tter the blow flies and shutter the know size
frog in the throat dies, just re*roll those
dice on the table, be mice and chew cable
don’t be soup be ladle
[chorus]
freak of frequent sync, i love to twist comma tinker
dae*da*dalus my thinker, c*c*callus my finger
i make trinket sing for me when i twist and i torque it
solder cache to the corcuit, put trash where i put gorbadge
in short, i’m quartz, clipping cranky to clunky
isopropyling gunky gear cog ogley thunking
and i work my way, but my way was the bad way
the now what’s this doodad way
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