Every friend group has that one guy. He means well, but absolute chaos follows him everywhere. He has a few too many drinks just for the vibe, forgets his own kid at the grocery store, burns the weekend barbecue to a crisp, and sleeps through a massive server crash at work on Monday. But don't worry — karma always catches up with him, usually in the form of a flying frying pan from his wife!
Listen here: Thrushes
🎤 Lyrics:
The oven is hot and the sausage is frying,
His wife in a mud mask is quite terrifying.
My pal took a shot as he walked out the door,
And left his own kid at the grocery store!
Frying pan just flew!
Pal was black and blue!
Pal was black and blue!
My pal was black and blue!
The thrushes are back and the sky's bright and clear,
We haven't yet eaten, we're running on beer.
The grass is so green and I'm smoking my stash,
My pal burned the barbecue meat into ash!
Thrushes holler too!
Pal was black and blue!
Pal was black and blue!
My pal was black and blue!
The office is buzzing like bees in a hive,
The server crashed hard and will never survive.
My pal had a hangover, stayed in bed,
He fucked up his Monday, he's hanging by a thread!
Orchards bloom anew!
Pal was black and blue!
Pal was black and blue!
My pal was black and blue!
Thrushes holler too!
Pal was black and blue!
Pal was black and blue!
My pal was black and blue!
Thrushes holler too!
Pal was black and blue!
Pal was black and blue!
My pal was black and blue!