Lyrics The Night Josh Tillman Came to Our Apartment - Father John Misty
Oh,
I
just
love
the
kind
of
woman
who
can
walk
over
a
man
I
mean
like
a
god
damn
marching
band
She
says,
like
literally,
music
is
the
air
she
breathes
And
the
malaprops
make
me
want
to
fuckin′
scream
I
wonder
if
she
even
knows
what
that
word
means
Well,
it's
literally
not
that
Of
the
few
main
things
I
hate
about
her,
one′s
her
petty,
vogue
ideas
Someone's
been
told
too
many
times
they're
beyond
their
years
By
every
half-wit
of
distinction
she
keeps
around
And
now
every
insufferable
convo
Features
her
patiently
explaining
the
cosmos
Of
which
she′s
in
the
middle
Oh
my
God,
I
swear
this
never
happens
Lately,
I
can′t
stop
the
wheels
from
spinnin'
I
feel
so
unconvincin′
And
I
fumble
with
her
buttons
She
blames
her
excess
on
my
influence
but
gladly
Hoovers
all
my
drugs
I
found
her
naked
with
her
best
friend
in
the
tub
We
sang
"Silent
Night"
in
three
parts
which
was
fun
'Til
she
said
that
she
sounds
just
like
Sarah
Vaughan
I
hate
that
soulful
affectation
white
girls
put
on
Why
don′t
you
move
to
the
Delta?
I
obliged
later
on
when
you
begged
me
to
choke
ya
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