Laura Jane Grace - Turn Those Clapping Hands Into Angry Balled Fists lyrics

Sleep on pillows made in Singapore Wrapped in comforters, sweating through sheets Drink your coffee in the morning Floating on Airplanes across the vast seas And your house is made of wood Central air, central heat You got your furniture of particle board Your doors are locked for, for safety And you walk in leather shoes Pants of denim, a black cotton sweatshirt And you do what you do Because doing can start to form a habit And you drink all night long And you sleep through the morning And if something doesn't break I'm just gonna go, go f**ing insane And you sweep up the floor when it's dirty You do the dishes, when the sink's full And when the refrigerator's empty Well it's time, it's time, it's time, it's time to go the store You put your books on a shelf Clothes arranged in the closet You hang the things on the wall that you don't wanna be so easily forgotten I hate these songs I hate the words That the singer is singing to me I hate this melody I hate this stupid f**ing drum beat But I'm not gonna tell anyone What I'm really thinking about Keep them conversations on the surface Just keep on smiling Just keep on saying Everything's gonna be alright It's gonna be alright [x2] Alright [x11]