Parable by Matthew Good Band Lyrics
Matt: Press the little red button
Press the-- it is pressed
The little bred ru--
Just go!
You are the one that took me down
We cannot see, we cannot kick the habit
Take your lips and turn 'em upside down
Make me slowly in the image of your perfection
If not the lion, then the apple of your eye
If not today, then tomorrow is just goodbye
I covet all these things
The bird, it knows, the bee stings
And then it dies well
And then it dies
Tea in a loaded room, in a loaded house, in a loaded town
A finger taps the table, bottled ships they run aground
If only for my life, if only for my life
If only for my life, know me, know me
If not the lion, then the apple of your eye
If not the jury, then guilt is through the alibi
I covet all these things
The bird, it knows, the bee stings
And then he died well
And then he died
You are the one that took me down
Between your riding 'round you've surely known you're lost and found
Take your whore lips and, take your whore lips and
Make me slowly in the image of your perfection
If not the saviour, then the apple of your eye
If not the masterpiece, then a massacre in disguise
I covet all these things
The bird, it knows, the bee stings
And then it dies well
And then it dies
So come on home
Baby, come on home
Come on home
Yeah, come on home
Press the-- it is pressed
The little bred ru--
Just go!
You are the one that took me down
We cannot see, we cannot kick the habit
Take your lips and turn 'em upside down
Make me slowly in the image of your perfection
If not the lion, then the apple of your eye
If not today, then tomorrow is just goodbye
I covet all these things
The bird, it knows, the bee stings
And then it dies well
And then it dies
Tea in a loaded room, in a loaded house, in a loaded town
A finger taps the table, bottled ships they run aground
If only for my life, if only for my life
If only for my life, know me, know me
If not the lion, then the apple of your eye
If not the jury, then guilt is through the alibi
I covet all these things
The bird, it knows, the bee stings
And then he died well
And then he died
You are the one that took me down
Between your riding 'round you've surely known you're lost and found
Take your whore lips and, take your whore lips and
Make me slowly in the image of your perfection
If not the saviour, then the apple of your eye
If not the masterpiece, then a massacre in disguise
I covet all these things
The bird, it knows, the bee stings
And then it dies well
And then it dies
So come on home
Baby, come on home
Come on home
Yeah, come on home