Billy Mack Collector - Thinking Bad

I heard a sound to the south
And I drove down to the gulf
I stared out at the ocean
As the sky looked like a anchor
The clouds were getting heavy
And the waves were getting ready
To take away the houses
That sat there like a burning wick
On a firework underwater
I'm thinking bad bad things
I'm thinking bad bad things
When the clouds had parted apart
My mind snapped back to open
And I spent the money I could spend
On things that made me happy
I got a bag of chips
And a can of spoiled fizz
I drank it like elixer
And I coughed up all the fresh air
I'm thinking bad bad things
I'm thinking bad bad things
There's a show on on the TV
There's a album on the speakers
There's a child screaming loudly
There's a baseball flying at me
There's a preacher on the TV
There's a sinner in the hallway
I've been eyeing up somebody
And wishing that I wasn't me
And the stimulation's growing
And the simulation's slowing
My hands are in my pockets
Looking for some kind of trinket
Or forgotten note folded
Or a watch that I can unwind
Until I stop the time
So nobody gets older
I'm thinking bad bad things
I'm thinking bad bad things

Written by:
William Mack

Publisher:
Lyrics © O/B/O DistroKid

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