All Wet Songtext
von Ryan Montbleau
All Wet Songtext
Waiting.
Waiting by all these dry vines.
Yes, I′ve been waiting, waiting, Lord,
For the river-tide to pass on by.
And I know it ain't rolled by yet,
Because my ankles and my feet are still wet
And got that same subtle feeling
Behind my ears. Riding.
Riding on a mountain goat.
But I′ve been saving, saving, Lord,
Saving up to buy myself a speedboat.
So that I can leave this land,
Put that ever-loving throttle in my hand
And get that same subtle feeling
That I've been searching for for years.
Waiting
On a Sunday afternoon.
Yes, I know it's Sunday, Lord, Sunday,
But I like it in the afternoon.
Come Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday
I′ve got too much to do,
And Thursday, Friday, Saturday come
I get that same subtle feeling
That I′ve been searching for for years.
Searching for for years.
Riding on a billy-goat, saving up to buy myself a speedboat.
Yes, I've been riding on a billy-goat, saving up to buy myself a speedboat.
So that we can leave this land.
Put that ever-loving throttle in my hand
And get that same subtle feeling.
That we′ve been searching for for years.
Waiting by all these dry vines.
Yes, I′ve been waiting, waiting, Lord,
For the river-tide to pass on by.
And I know it ain't rolled by yet,
Because my ankles and my feet are still wet
And got that same subtle feeling
Behind my ears. Riding.
Riding on a mountain goat.
But I′ve been saving, saving, Lord,
Saving up to buy myself a speedboat.
So that I can leave this land,
Put that ever-loving throttle in my hand
And get that same subtle feeling
That I've been searching for for years.
Waiting
On a Sunday afternoon.
Yes, I know it's Sunday, Lord, Sunday,
But I like it in the afternoon.
Come Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday
I′ve got too much to do,
And Thursday, Friday, Saturday come
I get that same subtle feeling
That I′ve been searching for for years.
Searching for for years.
Riding on a billy-goat, saving up to buy myself a speedboat.
Yes, I've been riding on a billy-goat, saving up to buy myself a speedboat.
So that we can leave this land.
Put that ever-loving throttle in my hand
And get that same subtle feeling.
That we′ve been searching for for years.
Writer(s): Moritz Friedrich, Quentin Dupieux Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com