By Ben Folds, Well I thought about the army
Dad said, son you're fucking
By Ben Folds, I feel like a quote out of context
withholding the rest
so
By Ben Folds, Six a.m. day after Christmas
I throw some clothes on in
By Ben Folds, I wish it was last September
When we could lose ourselves
By Ben Folds, Fred sits alone at his desk in the dark
There's an
By Ben Folds, Jane be Jane
You're better that way
Not when you're tryin'
Imitating somethin'
By Ben Folds, I should warn you
I go to sleep
I know you don't
Know
By Ben Folds, september '75 i was 47 inches high,
my mom said
By Ben Folds, I woke up and I drove to work
on the
By Ben Folds, Won't you look up at the skyline
At the mortar, block,
By Ben Folds, I, I
I'm gonna rock this bitch
I tell you what,
By Ben Folds, Now the houses are ghosts
Over Silver Street
They got 'em dressed
By Ben Folds, Well she crept back in the house at half past
By Ben Folds, I don't get many things right the first time
In
By Ben Folds, Blue jean baby, L.A. lady, seamstress for the band
Pretty eyes,
By Ben Folds, Sara spelled without an 'h' was getting bored
On a Peavey
