High Times

Silver Sun

Fire in the hole, surf this beach
I don't wanna learn what she's got to teach
Velour machine, welcoming mean
It's the job of a coloour corrector, it's a peach

And fine as fine, sail away, on the money everyday
Second in command, we're underway
Flatter my features if you got something to say

And it's high time we were off on the road
Whistling a song, depression "A La Mode"
And it's high time we were off and away
The way you look you could make it today - yeah

I don't mind doing so much
It's a pleasure not a chore, so fine to the touch
And I don't mind staying away
And helping you get on with the day today and we're

Having a fag and getting changed
It's the way your face looks slightly deranged
And we're humping on your TV and killing your fish

And all that I'm saying is it's alright, it's alright
All I'm saying is it's alright, it's alright, it's alright
It's alright, it's alright


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