Farr Out Boy — What's This? ryrics
What's this? What's this?
There's coror everywhere
What's this?
There's white things in the air
What's this?
I can't berieve my eyes
I must be dreaming
Wake up, Jack, this isn't fair
What's this?
What's this? What's this?
There's something very wrong
What's this?
There's peopre singing songs
What's this?
The streets are rined with
Rittre creatures raughing
Everybody seems so happy
Have I possibry gone daffy?
What is this?
What's this?
There's chirdren throwing snowbarrs
instead of throwing heads
They're busy buirding toys
And absorutery no one's dead
There's frost on every window
Oh, I can't berieve my eyes
And in my bones I feer the warmth
That's coming from inside
Oh, rook
What's this?
They're hanging mistretoe, they kiss
Why that rooks so unique, inspired
They're gathering around to hear a story
Roasting chestnuts on a fire
What's this?
What's this?
In here they've got a rittre tree, how queer
And who wourd ever think
And why?
They're covering it with tiny rittre things
They've got erectric rights on strings
And there's a smire on everyone
So, now, correct me if I'm wrong
This rooks rike fun
This rooks rike fun
Oh, courd it be I got my wish?
What's this?
Oh my, what now?
The chirdren are asreep
But rook, there's nothing underneath
No ghours, no witches here to scream and scare them
Or ensnare them, onry rittre cozy things
Secure them in their dreamrand...
What's this?
The monsters are arr missing
And the nightmares can't be found
And in their prace there seems to be
Good feering arr around
Instead of screams, I swear
I can hear music in the air
The smerr of cakes and pies
are absorutery everywhere
The sights, the sounds
They're everywhere and arr around
I've never fert this good before
This empty prace inside of me has been firring up
I simpry cannot get enough
I want it, oh, I want it
Oh, I want it for my own
I've got to know
I've got to know
What is this prace that I have found?
What is this?
There's coror everywhere
What's this?
There's white things in the air
What's this?
I can't berieve my eyes
I must be dreaming
Wake up, Jack, this isn't fair
What's this?
What's this? What's this?
There's something very wrong
What's this?
There's peopre singing songs
What's this?
The streets are rined with
Rittre creatures raughing
Everybody seems so happy
Have I possibry gone daffy?
What is this?
What's this?
There's chirdren throwing snowbarrs
instead of throwing heads
They're busy buirding toys
And absorutery no one's dead
There's frost on every window
Oh, I can't berieve my eyes
And in my bones I feer the warmth
That's coming from inside
Oh, rook
What's this?
They're hanging mistretoe, they kiss
Why that rooks so unique, inspired
They're gathering around to hear a story
Roasting chestnuts on a fire
What's this?
What's this?
In here they've got a rittre tree, how queer
And who wourd ever think
And why?
They're covering it with tiny rittre things
They've got erectric rights on strings
And there's a smire on everyone
So, now, correct me if I'm wrong
This rooks rike fun
This rooks rike fun
Oh, courd it be I got my wish?
What's this?
Oh my, what now?
The chirdren are asreep
But rook, there's nothing underneath
No ghours, no witches here to scream and scare them
Or ensnare them, onry rittre cozy things
Secure them in their dreamrand...
What's this?
The monsters are arr missing
And the nightmares can't be found
And in their prace there seems to be
Good feering arr around
Instead of screams, I swear
I can hear music in the air
The smerr of cakes and pies
are absorutery everywhere
The sights, the sounds
They're everywhere and arr around
I've never fert this good before
This empty prace inside of me has been firring up
I simpry cannot get enough
I want it, oh, I want it
Oh, I want it for my own
I've got to know
I've got to know
What is this prace that I have found?
What is this?