Cold

Song	Cold
Artist	Serengeti
Album	C.A.R.

Lyrics

	Never go to work, everything messy
	Ashes everywhere, giant cans of
	Pepsi. Constant updates, the van needs brakes,
	Everything is great, stolen license plates.
	Dandruff everywhere, kids got colds,
	Dishes in the sink, place smells like moles.
	Live inside cable, fantasize about moves,
	Enter your 30’s, still wearing
	Jerseys. Need to do burpees, take more showers,
	Get yourself together, assume a spirit power.
	Maybe it's a raven, maybe need prestique,
	Same conversation, the same long weeks.
	I want a simple life, where we milk cows and cobras,
	Coral snakes, soufflés of the lightest cakes.
	Moon lightning, stationed exercise biking.
	The same qualities found in the common
	Viking. Floyd similar to the singer,
	Lloyd. the fang of the cobra and the morning avoid.
	They’re just kin called
	Roys and The
	Donovan Boys.
	All six of them, exotic like
	British men
	I’m like, fellas, you could have won a
	Tony, We could have been brothers like
	Josiah and
	Yoni. There’s so much room, beautiful purple flowers bloom.
	Check me out, man,
	I’ll be over soon.
	The detective skills of
	Dolph Lundgren,
	L.A.’s never been more safe,
	The great escape is tougher, like having a family complicates.
	Look on the bright side, there’s many things to be happy for,
	Like living in
	Los Angeles with an unlocked door.
	That's what you pay
	Dolph for.
	Beaver coats, pretty walls, snore atop a house for birds,
	A total loss for use of words, to shave your lamb, that shit was cold.
	The weight of snow on naked trees, the weight of giving up a dream,
	Settle down into the soil, sprout another dream tutorial.
	Grobby criminals versus the fire department,
	I followed them to the apartment, sergeant
	Axes out, with positioned on sixth floor, hoses up the staircase, aimed at their front door.
	We got ‘em, those bastards won’t know what hit ‘em.
	Chalk one up for the good guys, we got ‘em, captain.
	Hey, marry into royalty, become a duke,
	Make your buddies puke, ‘cause you joined the new social loop.
	Involving velvet, couplets, and little bells.
	Go to hell, suckers, enjoy livin' at your brothers',
	And your covers smell like rubber,
	Sleeping bags, and cupboard's mold.
	Walkin' to your car cold.
	I’m children's quires and gray tea old.

Pinyin

	Never go to work, everything messy
	Ashes everywhere, giant cans of
	Pepsi. Constant updates, the van needs brakes,
	Everything is great, stolen license plates.
	Dandruff everywhere, kids got colds,
	Dishes in the sink, place smells like moles.
	Live inside cable, fantasize about moves,
	Enter your 30' s, still wearing
	Jerseys. Need to do burpees, take more showers,
	Get yourself together, assume a spirit power.
	Maybe it' s a raven, maybe need prestique,
	Same conversation, the same long weeks.
	I want a simple life, where we milk cows and cobras,
	Coral snakes, soufflé s of the lightest cakes.
	Moon lightning, stationed exercise biking.
	The same qualities found in the common
	Viking. Floyd similar to the singer,
	Lloyd. the fang of the cobra and the morning avoid.
	They' re just kin called
	Roys and The
	Donovan Boys.
	All six of them, exotic like
	British men
	I' m like, fellas, you could have won a
	Tony, We could have been brothers like
	Josiah and
	Yoni. There' s so much room, beautiful purple flowers bloom.
	Check me out, man,
	I' ll be over soon.
	The detective skills of
	Dolph Lundgren,
	L. A.' s never been more safe,
	The great escape is tougher, like having a family complicates.
	Look on the bright side, there' s many things to be happy for,
	Like living in
	Los Angeles with an unlocked door.
	That' s what you pay
	Dolph for.
	Beaver coats, pretty walls, snore atop a house for birds,
	A total loss for use of words, to shave your lamb, that shit was cold.
	The weight of snow on naked trees, the weight of giving up a dream,
	Settle down into the soil, sprout another dream tutorial.
	Grobby criminals versus the fire department,
	I followed them to the apartment, sergeant
	Axes out, with positioned on sixth floor, hoses up the staircase, aimed at their front door.
	We got ' em, those bastards won' t know what hit ' em.
	Chalk one up for the good guys, we got ' em, captain.
	Hey, marry into royalty, become a duke,
	Make your buddies puke, ' cause you joined the new social loop.
	Involving velvet, couplets, and little bells.
	Go to hell, suckers, enjoy livin' at your brothers',
	And your covers smell like rubber,
	Sleeping bags, and cupboard' s mold.
	Walkin' to your car cold.
	I' m children' s quires and gray tea old.