Nuthin Really Happens (Piano mix)

(Windnbreeze solo) (Intro:) Windnbreeze, the god of bliss (Chorus:) Nothing really happens when you hold on to the wind Standing by the clock, grooming time, picking ticks My phenotype type is no longer bioluminous And I must buy luminous Objective to soak myself and objects into fluids If nothing really happens, it was something I was trapped in Nothing really happens when you hold onto the wind Standing by the clock, grooming time, picking ticks My phenotype type is no longer bioluminous And I must buy luminous Objective to soak myself and objects into fluids If nothing really happens, it was something I was trapped in... (Verse 1:) I browse at palms before palms cover eyebrows And get in tune with the echo-like high sounds created by my forearms Yo, I've got four arms, and a boat attaches to stomach And I plummet into tumultuous dizziness, soon to be dysrhythmia Falling into a quick nostalgia, water bowelers from a shallow murmur Bo, wind-up figurine, big trollers and Victorian addicts I never settle for sleep, I just vindicate kettles for tea Some of em like Carmen and cinnamon But are like sipping the sediments and residue After taking apart synonyms In the dark is where you're living in And it starts with the listener, the message is that the (logs) be delivered on a whim Eyes fixed, I watched you hollow him and follow him And the Mignonette Circles through atmospheric friction (trebling) You're obligated to take this oblique twist to test if you're smart enough for oblivion Considering lost to a wander man Like a sedentary nomad found, heliotrope in hand Trying to escape the shadows of a really dark and placid labyrinth You sang silly sarcastic banter links It's a mystery to he, sorta like the way the Pink Panther thinks In an open-shut episode with an extra globe, bleary gaze gives glance to wink Even the involuntary twitch was laborious But your brain isn't robust There's more grass isle Like a grasshopper hopping over blades of grass While I cut blades of grass with two cut blades of glass Attach to the end, to make a blade-of-glass scissor Yo, did you hear anything about a grade, mister? Did you want me to kick your ass and dilute your linear mass until you turn into a blister? I'll give you a B minus or a B plus Any other insect in the kingdom of insectivores When I reflect on cloths Disinfectivores Do a diagnostic test on spores And a visual check on boards Yo, for checkmate, anticipate n tissues for tears Absorbed by glorious, cloths Composed of distorted, morbid wings of moths When inventories unmentionable (nine years, nine years) And even my peers find it nonsensical The way I tantalize with tentacles And send ten million sickle-cell anemia amoebas to fight lymphatic systems Understood anguish, under the woods in the forest I'm not a fan, and you're not famous Then, if marriage dissed 'em, thus we can't elope And if we can't elope We eat cantaloupe Running with antelope Like ants in a moat Chanting with ghosts who wear the fanciest cloths so crimson Hey, and if I'm panting the most At least I can float through spirit to dimensions Without confusion, cause I'm here for maintenance I may incense scents? By my primate walks bipedal like a primate We walk "by petals, by petals" is what we say After we leave the garden, with flowers in bloom Pollinating recessive mutations On plants on planets in the ethereal Do you drink serums for delirium? Diluted dialect firds (? ), thus disillusional You're lacking innocence, unlike the Little Prince You'll ask, "What's ephemeral? " Like the presence of gorgons on perches Next to Mormon churches And Mormon merkants keep reading from the gargoyle Takes precedence over the precipice With the precise recipe that is saliva From the snargoyles, into a cup of puss Sipping slow I doeth my body wrapped around the quintessence of dust Like Hamlet I can't handle it My phenotype is, it be no longer biolumionous My paws lack candlewick I need a brand-new opposed to amputate and Vulcan grip To grasp my many perplexed poses of focus Foretold to the equivalent factor of broken bliss But don't be mistaken Windnbreeze is still a god of it, god of it, god of it (Chorus:) Nothing really happens when you hold on to the wind Standing by the clock, grooming time, picking ticks My phenotype type is no longer bioluminous And I must buy luminous Objective to soak myself and objects into fluids If nothing really happens, it was something I was trapped in Nothing really happens when you hold onto the wind Standing by the clock, grooming time, picking ticks My phenotype type is no longer bioluminous And I must buy luminous Objective to soak myself and objects into fluids If nothing really happens, it was something I was trapped in...