歌词
Palm slaps to the puzzle, I'll make things fit
Oh, I had plans
The less talented George Harrison,
I think of the man himself
Eyes floating tired in his head
Brain racing to places he'd sooner be instead
He had plans, he had plans
If I had to guess, his thought went like this:
"Places to which I'll never return...
Sadness or joy, I'm not sure.
Places I'd sooner see burned"
Got my mind set on you, and truly
As my throat gently weeps,
My eyes, they're drooling
While my ears they grieve
Palm slaps to the puzzle, I'll make things fit
I'll throw a fit.
Scale the wall between
What I expect and what I'll get
Do I have to be stabbed to be noticed?
I hope not.
The no-talent Doc Gooden,
I can't hit for shit.
Eyes burning like
Those small white bricks
Pinned upon success
I can't forget