A-a-and you’ll also find there’s another head on mr frenchie
And it lives inside of you it’s the puling, mewling, whimpering, simpering. whining, uh, anxiety-ridden part of you that tells you
“no, I’m tired. let’s just rest a little longer. let’s just lay down for a little longer. let’s just put it off til tomorrow to go to the gym, let’s put it off til tomorrow to go outside and run, let’s put it off til tomorrow to do the pushups
Let’s put it off til tomorrow to tell that f#ck-face to get the f#ck out of our lives
Let’s put it off til tomorrow to live.”
And if you’re like me, every timе that voice comes into your mind you’ll think
“how many f#cken tomorrows do I havе? how many tomorrows have I put off?”
And you’ll find that you’re surrounded by stacks of tomorrows that have become yesterdays
Surrounding you like rotting fruit
And you just keep stacking those days on to that pile of rotting fruit
As you lay there surrounded by the bloat flies
The demonic forces that whirl around you in the form of unpaid bills, belly fat, and bad friends
You’ve gotta wake the f#ck up
And fight the fight, or die
Or just f#cking die
But I would prefer that you stay alive because you listen to this podcast: you’re a subscriber and I love you
And I don’t want you to be f#cked up
I don’t want to be f#cked up-
Oh this mind I’m looking through
Oh the space between…
Me and you, me and you, me ‘n you, meandyou
Look how far we’ve been
Through this state (we/I)’ve
Never been, never been, never been
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Isolé Lyrics – Tomorrows and tomorrows