Billy Blynde - Rolling Out of Bed

Tripping and falling and rolling out of bed
Sounds around me I can't get you out of me head
Coffee in the mornings and then I tune my drums
I got nothing better to do than sit and play a tune

Get a job
They said
Time waster
They said

Haven't got a chair, haven't got a home
My drums aren't a looker but it's the only thing I own
They're a real workhorse breed performed in hundreds of shows
Dents and scratches all over the scars from all the beats
Pack them up pack them down, we've done this before
Drumset up and sorted the quiet before the storm

Get a job
They said
Time waster
They said

Torn jeans with gold boots and dreadlocks in my hair
Zildjian vest all covered in holes but I don't really care
Run through stellawood cemetery to hitchhike to a friend
Got my promarks in my pocket and a snare drum on my back

Pigeon valley late at night hoffmans bike is by our side
Walking round the wilderness we hear strange and spooky sounds
Monkey's sitting in the tree tops, rain falling to the ground
Climb a big old Mango tree and talk to my eidolon

Mary Jane
She keeps us sane
Mary Jane
Our favourite spikey green haired

The storm hits hard with thunder above, lightning all around
Black ocean danced and swirled far out, never turn our backs on it
The demon face comes out the rock to eat us one by one
It sends its young to ruin our fun and the night comes to an end

Mary Jane
She keeps us sane
Mary Jane
Our favourite spikey green haired dame

Written by:
Laurence Smith

Publisher:
Lyrics © O/B/O DistroKid

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