(no subject)
Emotions signify your devotion
Like an airplane into the ocean
Crashing fast while in slow motion
Shattering, splattering, and mad hattering with no notion
that this is a tea party and all of us are drunk
Screaming while the dormouse has just sunk
Back into the pot, no one can get him there
He’s not involved in our twisted social affair.
And I could probably stand to drink some beautiful soup,
I’m not a trick pony, but sometimes I jump through hoops.
I’m not sure if my face would change, but you can still snoop
Around on the inside and see me separate from the group.
Cause you know I’m not a liar, but sometimes I don’t say how I really feel.
I don’t play croquet with flamingos, but my dreams are pretty surreal.
I can hallucinate on mushrooms and then face some ordeals
Like the time I turned into an orange and my skin was the peel.
Or how about now that I’ve grown ten feet tall
I’ve ditched all my friends, so I have to talk to the wall.
I don’t want to run away, but I don’t want to stall
I’m afraid if I try to leave, the door will shrink in the hall
And I won’t be able to get through, I’ll just be stuck in between
I won’t have anything to sip on and I haven’t yet been weened
I’m drunk enough to be curious about all the things I haven’t seen
But I’m not sure if I’m ready to feel exposed and unclean.
So I’m left demoted and less devoted
Because I’m not invited to the party anymore
But I’m not too mad, I always hated the Cheshire cat
And all those people are just cards on the floor.
Like an airplane into the ocean
Crashing fast while in slow motion
Shattering, splattering, and mad hattering with no notion
that this is a tea party and all of us are drunk
Screaming while the dormouse has just sunk
Back into the pot, no one can get him there
He’s not involved in our twisted social affair.
And I could probably stand to drink some beautiful soup,
I’m not a trick pony, but sometimes I jump through hoops.
I’m not sure if my face would change, but you can still snoop
Around on the inside and see me separate from the group.
Cause you know I’m not a liar, but sometimes I don’t say how I really feel.
I don’t play croquet with flamingos, but my dreams are pretty surreal.
I can hallucinate on mushrooms and then face some ordeals
Like the time I turned into an orange and my skin was the peel.
Or how about now that I’ve grown ten feet tall
I’ve ditched all my friends, so I have to talk to the wall.
I don’t want to run away, but I don’t want to stall
I’m afraid if I try to leave, the door will shrink in the hall
And I won’t be able to get through, I’ll just be stuck in between
I won’t have anything to sip on and I haven’t yet been weened
I’m drunk enough to be curious about all the things I haven’t seen
But I’m not sure if I’m ready to feel exposed and unclean.
So I’m left demoted and less devoted
Because I’m not invited to the party anymore
But I’m not too mad, I always hated the Cheshire cat
And all those people are just cards on the floor.