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Tally Ho

de Walter Mitty and His Makeshift Orchestra

Tommy, guard the house, I'm takin' off
Keep the dust out of my room
I'll prob'ly be gone for a while
All these things come crashin' down like cannon balls
I got the wits knocked out of me
I gotta make sense of it all
Just keep breathing

I've been takin' tons of little pills
To make my heavy head fall off
To make my subconscious shut up
But she says there's decisions that I gotta make
And oh, I keep dreaming of a wide
Open ceiling where we
Pull a Peter Pan and fly our
Sorry butts back to our old cul-de-sac and

Dude, I really miss you
Yeah dude, I really miss you
Dude, I really miss you
Yeah dude, I really miss you

So now I'm waitin' 'til I run out of oxygen
I'm bankin' on this 2012 thing to resolve
'Cause maybe if we kiss the funny face of apocalypse
Oh, it would be so relieving if we all stopped breathing, that's all

I'm just a juvenile product of culture
And I'm getting older
I just need to sack-up and face it, but

Dude, I really miss you
Yeah dude, I really miss you
Dude, I really miss you
Yeah dude, I really miss you

And all the things that we swore off
Well, they're happening to us now
I know I can't sit quiet
But I don't know what else to do

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