Sunday: spring has got me so excited
By Tuesday I'm in love, I love that summer buzz
By Thursday all the hands have died
And torn the June leaves from the sky
I just know where this week is heading
Whitechristmassacres I'm dreading
Wash away the week end

What if I could quit all this?
The celebratory drinks
The obligatory wishing wells
I've got a pretty bow to hang myself
It makes me sick I've got the chills
The parents should behave themselves

I know something you don't know so there
It's teeth are sharp like the dinosaur
His balls are so much bigger than yours
Birthday beat myself to death
These bones of mine they need some rest
This here that sleeps is true
See you at the weekend


Lyrics submitted by gobby89

Soviet Bones song meanings
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