This isn't math, it's a paragraph
It's a pot of gold in a garbage can
Should've seen the signs at Christmastime
When the mistletoe didn't make you want to make out
Honey, here's the fuckin' truth
You'd rather be with her, and
I'd rather be with you
Oh, baby, this is the end of times
You want to call it often
I want to call you mine
You are my ice cream
You make my brain freeze
You are my ice cream
You make my brain freeze
This isn't nice, it's a bath of life
It's an open book with no words inside
I was so naive, I was so deceived
When I found out that adults are very confused
Honey, here's the fuckin' truth
You'd rather be with her, and
I'd rather be with you
Oh, baby, this is the end of times
You want to call it often
I want to call you mine
You are my ice cream
You make my brain freeze
You are my ice cream
You make my brain freeze
If I let you go, I know you'll go, so I'll hold tightly
Lost my self-control one year ago, I feel like fighting
If I let you go, I know you'll go, so I'll hold tightly
Lost my self-control one year ago, I feel like fighting
You are my ice cream
You make my brain freeze
You are my ice cream
You make my brain freeze
This isn't math, it's a paragraph
It's a pot of gold in a garbage can
Should've seen the signs at Christmastime
When the mistletoe didn't make you want to make out
compositores: Kristine Flaherty, Nick Long, Tom Schleiter
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