And well, talkin' 'bout TV
Another rider, he was a talker
Doin' the cockroach, yeah, yeah
Songwriters: Isaac Brock, Jeremiah Green, Eric Judy
Your face, your lips, your hips
Doin' the cockroach, yeah
Well, late last winter down below the equator
You're walking down the street
But she felt I'm not listenin'
One year, twenty years, forty years, fifty years
Doin' the cockroach, yeah
You're not hu hu hu hu
Tasty but worthless, dogs eat their own shit
Believe in neither, but fear them as well
This one's a cash fiend, takin' your money
You're not hungry though
Now you tell me anything
We're doin' the cockroach, yeah
Well, late last winter down below the equator
And oh, my mind is all made up, oh, my mind is all made up
Well, late last winter down below the equator
Drunk on the Amtrak
This one's a lawyer
Your eyes, they meet
So I'll have to sleep in it
You're saying words
I was in heaven, I was in hell
Alright, not bad, not bad
You'll look in the mirror
Back on the metro, ride on the greyhound
You vibrate my eardrums
This one's a doctor
Oh, my mind is all made up
Alright, not bad
They had a summer that would make you blister
And say, "My parents are still alive"
Oh, my mind is all made up
Please, shut up
They had a summer that would make you blister
You're not hungry though
So I'll have to be comin'
Please, shut up
They had a summer that would make you blister
So I'll have to be comin'
Oh, my mind is all made up
Doin' the cockroach, yeah, yeah
Down the road in your life
The origin of junk food, ruttin' through garbage
This one's a crazier, daydreamin' disaster
You move your mouth, you shake your tongue
Publishers: SONY/ATV HARMONY, TSCHUDI MUSIC, UGLY CASANOVA MUSIC
You say, you're acting you