Credits
PERFORMING ARTISTS
Niels Tuijaerts
Guitar
COMPOSITION & LYRICS
Niels Tuijaerts
Songwriter
PRODUCTION & ENGINEERING
Niels Tuijaerts
Producer
Lyrics
The room is getting smaller
My skin is wearing thin
I burn through a pack cigarettes
Because there's too much time to think
Nowhere to run
When the panic kicks in
At eight o'clock tonight I'll be removing
My safety pin
And I dream of being free
Of anxious bones
And special needs
So I can roam the earth
And settle down somewhere at sea
The endless blue awaits
And even kids might be a fact someday
But for now I'm in a haze
While the future's far away
What am I supposed to do?
What am I supposed to do?
La-la-la-la-la
La-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la
La-la-la-la-la
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I'm talking to my plant
I'm talking to my plant again
She says she understands
The pains of being young and trying to
Act like everything's fine
When really you're a mess
And rents got a hold on you
A mystic voice speaks out:
'Can't you spare a little
Dirt and water?'
When we met
You were kind
You kept me wet
I was a fool
To forget
That people tend to neglect a plant like me
La-la-la-la-la
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Writer(s): Niels Tuijaerts
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