The Floor Is Made of Lava

Ain't Half Bad


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My neighbor sings a serenade and cries about some boyfriend.
I think i've met him in the hall before, and i can't figure out her emotions.
Some kindergarten field trip make their way around evolution.
As the next-door baby makes my day and starts screaming about devotion.
I can see how it looks and from here it ain't half bad.
I see everything exactly how i want it to look.
It started out with nothing, but ends with something good.

What makes 45 new messages and an ocean of unread mail?
I should really call my mama up, and write down all the things to say.
My calendar says april, but all the months are all the same.
I'd love a lot of people a lot of more, if it wasn't always this way.
I can see how it looks and from here it ain't half bad.
I see everything exactly how i want it to look.
It started out with nothing, but ends with something good.

All my friends are traveling through or heading for some kind of cause.
It's not that i don't wanna go, but i get confused by the numbers and doors.
I can see how it looks and from here it ain't half bad.
I can see what you mean and from here it ain't half bad.
I can see through it all and from here it ain't half bad.
I see everything exactly how i want it to look.
It started out with nothing, but ends with something good.


Autor(es): The Floor Is Made of Lava

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