Your native language

عربي

Arabic

عربي

简体中文

Chinese

简体中文

Nederlands

Dutch

Nederlands

Français

French

Français

Deutsch

German

Deutsch

Italiano

Italian

Italiano

日本語

Japanese

日本語

한국인

Korean

한국인

Polski

Polish

Polski

Português

Portuguese

Português

Română

Romanian

Română

Русский

Russian

Русский

Español

Spanish

Español

Türk

Turkish

Türk

Українська

Ukrainian

Українська
User Avatar

Sonido


Interfaz


Nivel de dificultad


Acento



lenguaje de interfaz

es

Lyrkit YouTube Lyrkit Instagram Lyrkit Facebook
Política de cookies   |   Apoyo   |   FAQ
1
registro de inicio de sesión
Lyrkit

donar

5$

Lyrkit

donar

10$

Lyrkit

donar

20$

Lyrkit

Y/o apoyarme en las redes sociales. redes:


Lyrkit YouTube Lyrkit Instagram Lyrkit Facebook
Of Montreal

Fuckheads Is The Auto-Correction

 

Fuckheads Is The Auto-Correction

(álbum: I Feel Safe With You, Trash - 2021)


Am I a creep because I don't have a chosen pronoun?
Am I a creep because my mind is the Odeon of the multiverse?
How you bragged your length of legs by insisting to walk to Midtown
Microchips looking miserable in a Greenpoint gallery
I bounced between bars full of ink alone as a pinball yes that alone

Now your long haired friend is looking for his cocaine
And I'm happy my drink's not empty
As long as there's something left in the glass you don't look like an alcoholic
She sometimes/always appears to be plural I oversing ambivalence

Ovary venom as a first confession
Now that she shaved her head we're all one big comb over
He developed a craving for impotent men who peacock
Themselves invisible and being very ugly for tips
Gentrification of libido self-titled just like New York City itself

Ragout the streetware of horsemanship I can dance with you
We took too much bitter anonymous performative abuse and now we can't sleep
She changed her name by one letter leaving nothing to discretion
Fuckheads is the new preferred auto-correction

Every idea is aquatic life no thought is the sea
That's the only tear I've never cried it cried for me
Gray babies ululating outside the afternoon door
Horror vacui conversation I don't adore mi amor

hecho

¿Agregaste todas las palabras desconocidas de esta canción?