Sleeping through another Sunday
a lost weekend
approaching Monday
accosted by a debutante
offering more than I could want
Senses leaving snail trails heaving up the debris of the night before
crush my skull with feather weight poems
I know but I'm not sure
From out of nowhere I'm stuck in traffic
Life is a gas station and I'm on empty
brush my teeth with wire wool
and worry about my inclinations
someone takes a toke of toxic
television screams off the wall
fading in the next drink
I think but I'm not too sure
And it looks like mustard
smells like mustard
feels a lot like glue
It looks like mustard
burns like mustard
comes on just like you
Standing idly on the corner
disheveled and out of order
Reveling in faded glory
I get told another story
senses leaving snail trails heaving up the debris of the night before
crush my skull with feather weight poems
I know but I'm not sure
And it tastes like mustard
smells like mustard
feels a lot like glue
looks like mustard
burns like mustard
comes on just like you
Mustard Lyrics performed by The Saints are property and copyright of the authors, artists and labels. You should note that Mustard Lyrics performed by The Saints is only provided for educational purposes only and if you like the song you should buy the CD