Mathilda

Oh, decry with these two fingers
I can show you why
That I'm restricted
When you kiss me so promiscuously
I'll be screaming go-tilly-go

Oh delay without these shackles
I can show the way to make you obfuscate
And push aside utensils
I'll be screaming go-tilly-go

When all this commotion dies down
She'll deliver a subtle soliloquy
Straight to his pillow

Which frowns as she strikes it
With fists that insist
The light of their fridge door
Was always a metaphor

I'm bewildered
So please explain to me right now Mathilda
How all the friction in your diction
Leaves me staring at you
I'm still screaming go-tilly-go

I'll decide, with these two fingers
I can show you why
Despite my lethargy and mispronunciation
I'll be screaming go-tilly-go

When all this commotion dies down
She'll deliver a subtle soliloquy
Straight to his pillow

Which frowns as she strikes it
With fists that insist
The light of their fridge door
Was always a metaphor

Ay

Promises
The promises
Promises
(Sick of)
The promises