Bloomer - Secret Band

I ain’t no fool

I cook the nuggets in the oven and they taste so good

That’s why I put 'em in my stomach

If you shake your fist then it won’t do nothing

If you shake your fist then it won’t do nothing

Yeah, I ain’t no fool

I’m petting puppies every day, please stay out the pool

I’m really worried bout your suede

If you shake your fist, then it won’t do nothing

If you shave your fist, then it won’t do-

I’m in all black, you can’t act

Don’t aim for the brain, you spinal tap

They can’t laugh or raise flags

Just suffer under weight of finance

Shilling for the center of nice

Looking for twice my type, some sort of innocent devil

Similar to good ass bread

It might feel soft to be dead and not really that awkward

Don’t become the father of a ladle

Have to scoop up soup filled with poop and pebbles

Don’t become a bird-ass horse

You’ll probably peck at a corpse and then fly through a meadow

I’m awake on an unimpressed star

I know who you are, you’re the feigning hope

The flailing rope you’ll hang yourself from

Was it fun running towards the sun?

I hope your problems fade away and solve themselves for you

Cause that’s the type of thing you’d say, you know not what it do

No more meaning, I’m receiving

That’s not healing, just revealing

What you have to lose

I’m in all black, you can’t act

Don’t aim for the brain, you spinal tap

They can’t laugh or raise flags

Just suffer under weight of finance

Its a style that you can’t undo

Your life’s the flu, thrown down the loo

Lies ain’t soap and they can’t save you

Amazing stuff, I’m so proud I can’t thank me enough

I ain’t no fool

I cook the nuggets in the oven and they taste so good

That’s why I put 'em in my stomach

If you shake your fist then it won’t do nothing

If you shake your fist then it won’t do nothing

Yeah, I ain’t no fool

I’m petting puppies every day, please stay out the pool

I’m really worried bout your suede

If you shake your fist, then it won’t do nothing

If you shave your fist, then it won’t do-

Shilling for the center of nice

Looking for twice my type, some sort of innocent devil

Similar to good ass bread

It might feel soft to be dead and not really that awkward

Don’t become the father of a ladle

Have to scoop up soup filled with poop and pebbles

Don’t become a bird-ass horse

You’ll probably peck at a corpse and then fly through a meadow

I’m awake on an unimpressed star

I know who you are, you’re the feigning hope

The flailing rope you’ll hang yourself from

Was it fun running towards the sun?

I hope your problems fade away and solve themselves for you

Cause that’s the type of thing you’d say, you know not what it do

Shes the bottle I’m the cork

We’re an icy pillow fort

I’m some soup and shes a fork

We’re poised to knock it down

Nothing will replace it

I’m only trying, only trying

Not to run away, but I don’t wanna stay