Rubblebucket - Sweet Spot
I woke up in the grassThe grey November grass
Black and blue
A peaceful smiling mess
With a feeling, just a guess
That I had lost you
Rolling down a hill
My favorite kind of spill
Dizzy retreat
When the bitter hits the bone
I know it's time to go home
And feel for something warm and sweet
I'm feeling for the sweet spot
I don't know if I'm ready or not
Why does it life always serve it up so hot? (ouch)
I'm feeling for the sweet spot
I don't know if I'm ready or not
Why does it life always serve it up so hot?
Maybe I should just go and smoke some pot
Ah, it feels so good
I woke up in a pile
Made of my own smile
And bloody teeth
The puddles on
The puddles on my cheeks
A salty kind of sweet
Hints of pining mixed with extended harmony
The error and the trial
Went walking down the aisle
K-I-S-S-I-N-G
It's impossible to plan
But this shit won't hit its own fan
So let's go, dive in, feel it out!
Woo!
I'm feeling for the sweet spot
I don't know if I'm ready or not
Why does it life always serve it up so hot? (ouch)
I'm feeling for the sweet spot
I don't know if I'm ready or not
Why does it life always serve it up so hot?
Maybe I should just go and smoke some pot
Sweet spot
I like it a lot
Mhm
Love it, love it, yes
It's on the lot
Just make it go hot
Mhm
Yes
Sweet spot
Innocent
I like it a lot
Make it go hot
Sweet spot, sweet spot
Mhm
Try it now
Again, again
Yes
Sweet spot
Spot
And you find yourself having episodes
Relying to heavily on them
They start backing away
You feel abandoned and betrayed
That people only love you when you're perfect
No one asked you to be perfect
You chose to do that upfront
Because you believed it would be the only way people would love you
Then eventually you burn out
Drop the mask and act out
Then people leave and the protective self says
"Oh my God, people always leave me when I'm not perfect"
But that's not the truth
Written by:
Alexander Flynn Toth, Annakalmia Clark Traver
Publisher:
Lyrics © SC PUBLISHING DBA SECRETLY CANADIAN PUB.
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