Mister Bubbles - A Soupçon of Mercy

Life hides in the blind
And then we get nutted
You were so unkind
Before I was gutted
I seek the mastermind
But he is off rutting
I'm starting to unwind
I'd just prefer to cut it
I wanna get my ass kicked
In my old neighborhood
I'm not looking for much
I'm just hoping that it feels good
A bit melancholy
Yeah it's kind of my brand
If I can find that newer me
With that fist clenched in his good hand
Let there be no confusion
I don't suffer from delusion
Where you might see intrusions
I welcome the illusion
How'd we end up here?
Mmmm how'd we get back here
Saigon is so long from here
Around the world just to end back here
Hey, oh, it's the way that theses things go
We made a choice or two and we just as quickly blow it
Some times, a little is enough,
When that cold wind's blowing and the times are lean and too tough
I took the White Horse Pike to Monopoly City
It was winter time when the desperate look less pretty
Barefoot was a bad idea this sand is cold and gritty
Can I ask for much in this town that lost its pity
I've been digging through the past trying to make some sense
I know I'll never find it here on this seagull shitted bench
The ocean's been my oracle off season here in Jersey
I'm not looking for much you know, just a soupçon of mercy
A man fell into view just a little further down
Standing on the boardwalk, kept his eyes fixed on the ground
He said he was a former, disconsolate croupier
The world his if he wanted and asked for it yesterday
Yesterday
I moved further down where I could hear the ocean's sound
"I'd jump in there with you if I thought that you might drown"
I said, "say what you want to say and leave me to my angst,
You can have these dead sand dollars I found along the banks."
But
How'd we end up here?
Manhattan's not so far from here
Around the world just to end back here
Salvation is so far from here
Yo yo, it's the way that theses things go
We made a choice or two and we very quickly blow it
Some times, a little is enough,
When that cold wind's blowing and the times are lean and too tough
"Easy," he says to me and I swear that he tut tutted
"My story's not original but yours and mine abutted."
He grew a bit more passionate as he faced down his demons
He squared himself in front of me and then he started screaming
"I've been gutted; I've been nutted, like you
And you will be too"
The ocean as an oracle off season here in Jersey
I ain't looking for much you know
Just a soupçon of mercy

Written by:
brendan oconnell

Publisher:
Lyrics © O/B/O DistroKid

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