Smoke Machine Songtext
von The Giraffes

Everybody says I′m too uptight
And I spend too much time alone
And these are the same people, friends of mine
And I'll rip them all off line for line

Whoa, I′m as pure as a pretty little baby
Whoa, with a name that everybody hates
Whoa, when I make up my mind and get out of bed
When the chubby baby legs start pressing the ground
It's time

He was a poor boy once but it didn't sit well
Having doubts about his friends moving out of his hometown
Now he′s looking for the best way to let everybody know
Just how far he′s gone


Whoa, he's as pure as a pretty little baby
Whoa, with a face that everybody hates
Whoa, when he makes up his mind and gets out of bed
When the chubby baby legs start pressing the ground
It′s time

That's what smoke machines are for
Help describe the glow
That′s what high heels are for
Let the good times roll

And now I got a brand new best friend
And now he knows just where I've been
And now he′ll use his name
Use his name on everything I'm ever outside again

That's what smoke machines are for
Help describe the glow
That′s what German names are for
Tell the inside jokes

Whoa, I′m as pure as a pretty little baby
Whoa, with a thing that everybody hates
Whoa, when we make up our mind and get out of bed
When the chubby baby legs start pressing the ground
It's time