Larry And His Flask - Out of Print lyrics

Page by page keeps turning, but you can't seem to read a single word The night seems heavy of it's yearning, for something never spoke but only heard Tell them it's the season or, blame it on the matador Force it on your auntie or a friend But when it come right down to it, nothing really seems to fit You'll know it all the way down to the end The name of the game is quite unfriendly, with lots of syllables not many vowels It's important that you treat it very gently, for it often gets mistook for something fowl Your spine has cracked and dried, watermarked and died Wasted time, I know you thought you tried Tell them it's the season or, blame it on the matador Force it on your auntie or a friend But when it come right down to it, nothing really seems to fit You'll know it all the way down to the end Tell them what your burdens bore, the skeletons will wash ashore Absolving you from all unholy sin But when it came right down to it, nothing ever seemed to fit You've known it all the way down to the end