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Behind The Sea (alternate Version)
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Panic! At the Disco
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1
Our daydream spills from my gold head
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Breaks free of my wooden neck
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Left a nod over sleeping waves
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Like bobbing bait for bathing cod
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Floating flocks of candle swans
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Slowly drift across wax ponds
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The men all played along to marching drums
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And boy did they have fun behind the sea
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They sang, 'So our matching legs are marching clocks
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And were all too small to talk to God
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Yes, were all too smart to talk to God'
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Toast the fine folks casting silver crumbs
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To us from the dock
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Jinxed things ringing as they leak
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Through tiny cracks in the boardwalk
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Scarecrow now its time to hatch
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Sprouting sons and ageless daughters
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Don't you know, don't you know
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That those watermelon smiles just cant ripen underwater
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Just cant ripen underwater
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The men all played along to marching drums
22
And boy did they have fun behind the sea
23
They sang, 'So our matching legs are marching clocks
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And were all too small to talk to God
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Yeah, were all too smart to talk to God
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Oh, were all too smart to talk to God'
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Oh, waves of wooden legs, waves of wooden legs
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Waves of wooden legs
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Waves of wooden legs, waves of wooden legs
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Waves of wooden legs
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Waves of wooden legs, waves of wooden legs
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Waves of wooden legs
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Waves of wooden legs, waves of wooden legs
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Waves of wooden legs
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