LYRICS: Harness your hopes on just one person You know, because a harness was only made for one Don't telegraph your passes, you'll end up with molasses Cauterized in syrup and syrup's not molasses And I'm checking out the asses, the assets that attract us To anything that moves, we're deep inside the groove And it's time to shake the rations 'cause someone's gonna cash in The movie starts at ten, the plot, it never ends Well, show me a word that rhymes with pavement And I won't kill your parents and roast them on a spit And don't you try to etch it or permanently sketch it Or you're gonna catch a bad, bad cold 'Cause the freaks have stormed the White House I lived inside a lighthouse It's on a scenic quay, it's, oh, so far away Far away from the beginning, the shroud is made of linen The goth kid has a hearse, the filly lost her purse Nun is to church, as the parrot is to perch And my heart's wide open, truly Leisure, a leisure suit is nothing It's nothing to be proud of in this late century And I'm asking you to hold me just like a morning paper Pinched between your pointer, your index, and your thumb It's a semi-automatic, believers are ecstatic You see the way they cling, the cold metallic sting And I'm living in a coma for Donna de Varona The harness made of hopes, the lovers on the ropes Earth-shaking, rattle-snaking Kiwis are a-home baking Minds wide open, truly
![No. 1 party anthem - Arctic Monkeys [sped up]](/img/n.gif)
LYRICS:
Harness your hopes on just one person
You know, because a harness was only made for one
Don't telegraph your passes, you'll end up with molasses
Cauterized in syrup and syrup's not molasses
And I'm checking out the asses, the assets that attract us
To anything that moves, we're deep inside the groove
And it's time to shake the rations 'cause someone's gonna cash in
The movie starts at ten, the plot, it never ends
Well, show me a word that rhymes with pavement
And I won't kill your parents and roast them on a spit
And don't you try to etch it or permanently sketch it
Or you're gonna catch a bad, bad cold
'Cause the freaks have stormed the White House
I lived inside a lighthouse
It's on a scenic quay, it's, oh, so far away
Far away from the beginning, the shroud is made of linen
The goth kid has a hearse, the filly lost her purse
Nun is to church, as the parrot is to perch
And my heart's wide open, truly
Leisure, a leisure suit is nothing
It's nothing to be proud of in this late century
And I'm asking you to hold me just like a morning paper
Pinched between your pointer, your index, and your thumb
It's a semi-automatic, believers are ecstatic
You see the way they cling, the cold metallic sting
And I'm living in a coma for Donna de Varona
The harness made of hopes, the lovers on the ropes
Earth-shaking, rattle-snaking
Kiwis are a-home baking
Minds wide open, truly