Lyrics They Might Be Giants

They Might Be Giants

This Microphone

Selflessly hiding all emotions inside

Chilly and dry, New England style

Nobody's figured out my twelve fatal flaws

Who's keeping score? Who wins that war?

I'm busting out

And I know everyone agrees

Caring is carting bad ideas to the dump

And taking my time, taking my time

Hey, this microphone was turned on all along

I tried returning all that stuff to the store

But then I bought more, then I bought more

I'm done explaining all these reckless displays

Hard to defend, I'm in a haze

Old stories told

In brand-new clothes I bought today

Kindness is killing off my unfinished dreams

And walking away, just walking away

Hey, this microphone was turned on all along

Caring is carting bad ideas to the dump

And taking my time, taking my time

Hey, this microphone was turned on all along