Keep telling yourself it'll get better...
Keep telling yourself it's a footstep away.
She's got turntable trouble,
skipping over the rough spots
like Soyuz Cosmonauts.
She smells like cotton candy and smoke machines...
Keep telling yourself it'll get better...
He's got a fashion sense of an undertaker,
a freestyle maker.
He closes his eyes...
She smells like cotton candy and smoke machines...