Judges - Thanksgiving

«FUCK!»

«CHINA!»

«That was the take»

«Is it in?»

«Is it in?»

«Are we going or are we not going?»

«SHUT UP!»

«Phil where’s my snare?

I have no snare in my headphones»

Don’t judge my music

Don’t judge my songs

If someone is singing

It’s not right or wrong

And don’t judge my dancing

Just here to have fun

Y’all should be happy

Inside here it’s warm

Don’t judge my painting

I’m not painting for you

And whatever you say

I’m gonna ignore you

Mhmmmm

Cause life isn’t easy, buddy

And it’ll never go right

And everybody is gonna die

You and me can be happy, I think

In so many ways

It ain’t no use to us to complain

You and me look even more funny

When we say bad stuff about somebody

So now that I sing

It’s just a sound

Like a car passing

Or swan’s wings flapping

You can give in now

And lay in the waves

What did you think my singing was?

What did you think my singing was?

What did you think when you were young?

That light’s not from my eyes

It’s from those lights

But I get to see stuff

I’ll judge it right