
Bat You’ll Fly Animal Collective
На этой странице вы найдете полный текст песни "Bat You’ll Fly" от Animal Collective. Lyrxo предлагает вам самый полный и точный текст этой композиции без лишних отвлекающих факторов. Узнайте все куплеты и припев, чтобы лучше понять любимую песню и насладиться ею в полной мере. Идеально для фанатов и всех, кто ценит качественную музыку.

[Verse 1]
Abby, listen to the flick of the floss, it's been five years since the sandbox
(Amber lady, steal when you wake up late)
The pueblo is the Indian way at the beat of the cha-chas
(Find your Velcro shoes, it's a holiday)
And run into the village, I'll follow
'Cause happiness is being the swallow
[Chorus 1]
After face
(And don't you worry, I'm your brother)
On the oaks
(Paint dries early, and you'll recover)
Beware, well, she's here, smile
(I said, I said, I said, I said)
You'll find reasons to doubt when the seasons
(Ooh ma ma ma, ma ma mama)
Cry holding pieces of brine and the child dies
(Ma, ma ma mama, bah, ma la la)
[Verse 2]
New York is not a beautiful place and I often get sad there
(On a summer day, there's a village way)
The village where we hide all our socks when they're pulled past our ankles
(When the leaves are gold and the trees are pagodas)
So crouch under a bush like a maiden
'Cause happiness ain't lovin', it's waiting
Abby, listen to the flick of the floss, it's been five years since the sandbox
(Amber lady, steal when you wake up late)
The pueblo is the Indian way at the beat of the cha-chas
(Find your Velcro shoes, it's a holiday)
And run into the village, I'll follow
'Cause happiness is being the swallow
[Chorus 1]
After face
(And don't you worry, I'm your brother)
On the oaks
(Paint dries early, and you'll recover)
Beware, well, she's here, smile
(I said, I said, I said, I said)
You'll find reasons to doubt when the seasons
(Ooh ma ma ma, ma ma mama)
Cry holding pieces of brine and the child dies
(Ma, ma ma mama, bah, ma la la)
[Verse 2]
New York is not a beautiful place and I often get sad there
(On a summer day, there's a village way)
The village where we hide all our socks when they're pulled past our ankles
(When the leaves are gold and the trees are pagodas)
So crouch under a bush like a maiden
'Cause happiness ain't lovin', it's waiting
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