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Behind the Sea (Album Version)
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Panic! at the Disco
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1
A daydream spills from my corked 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 we're all too small to talk to god
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Yes, we're 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 it's time to hatch
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sprouting suns and ageless daughters
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Go on, you know
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Don't you know
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That those watermelon smiles just can't ripen underwater
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Just can't ripen underwater
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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 we're all too small to talk to god
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Yeah, we're all too smart to talk to god
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oh, we're all too smart to talk to god
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Ooooh
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Legs of wood waves, waves of wooden legs
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Waves of wooden legs
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Legs of wood waves, waves of wooden legs
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Waves of wooden legs
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Legs of wood waves, waves of wooden legs
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Waves of wooden legs
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Legs of wood waves, waves of wooden legs
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Waves of wooden legs
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Oooooh
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So close, so close
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