Lost Art of Murder

Could roll a four, roll a nine Find myself washed up in paradise Like before you didn't mind Someone else washed up in paradise, everyday What a nice day for a murder Call yourself a killer, only thing you're killing is your time There's nothing absurder A bird is a burden to your heart, soul, body, spirit and mind Don't look at me like that, she won't take you back You've said too much, been too unkind Get off your back, stop smoking that Change your life, just might change her mind, her mind Roll a four, roll a nine Find yourself washed up in paradise All the fours to all the nines I lost my phone in paradise, pay as you go What a nice day for a murder Say you're a killer, only thing you're killing is time There's nothing absurder Than a bird it's a burden to your heart, soul, body, spirit and mind Oh, don't look at me like that, she won't take you back You've done too much, been too unkind Get up off your back, stop smoking that Change your life, think it'll change their mind Don't look at me like that, she won't take you back Said too much, been too unkind Get up off your back, stop smoking that Change your life, just might change her mind