Sense

(álbum: Paper Mâché Dream Balloon - 2015)

It's in vogue to be feckless
When it comes to the mother taking care of us
I know it's so conventional
But it don't make no sense at all
But in fact it's a pattern
Everything I hear will always make me ashen
I know its recognizable
But it don't make no sense at all, oh

Ooh, no no no sense at all

People pay for their coupé
But they can't pay their taxes for the freeway
I know it's so predictable
But it don't make no sense at all
And some people say it's on their radar
But they drive a million miles in their fast car
I know it's so invisible
But it don't make no sense at all, oh

Ooh, no no no sense at all
Ooh, no no no sense at all

But in fact it's a pattern
Everything I hear will always make me ashen
I know it's recognizable
But it don't make no sense at all, oh

Ooh, no no no sense at all, oh
Ooh, no no no sense at all, oh
Ooh, no no no sense at all, oh
Ooh, no no no sense at all