Watsky, Sloppy Seconds: We need your help!
-
I can comment on it
-
I know the meaning
-
I can review it
-
I can translate it
Watsky
George Watsky (born September 15, 1986) is a writer and performer who believes in the equal power of the tear and the belly laugh. Born and raised in San Francisco and now based in Los Angeles, he aims to cross-pollinate the stage, screen and stereo with work that speaks to both the humor and frustrations of modern life.
George was featured on Season 6 of Russell Simmons Presents Def Poetry on HBO. He was the 2006 Youth Speaks Grand Slam Poetry Champion Read Full BioGeorge Watsky (born September 15, 1986) is a writer and performer who believes in the equal power of the tear and the belly laugh. Born and raised in San Francisco and now based in Los Angeles, he aims to cross-pollinate the stage, screen and stereo with work that speaks to both the humor and frustrations of modern life.
George was featured on Season 6 of Russell Simmons Presents Def Poetry on HBO. He was the 2006 Youth Speaks Grand Slam Poetry Champion, 2006 Brave New Voices International Poetry Slam Champion, and performed in a record six consecutive Youth Speaks Grand Slam Finals. The last three of those audiences, all topping out at over 3,000, were the largest ever for poetry slams anywhere in the world. In 2009 Watsky was one of three poets who performed live on FOX at the NAACP Image Awards in honor of Russell Simmons’ lifetime achievement award.
George has made strides to bring his poetic sensibilities to the theater world. His one-man show So Many Levels has been presented in Boston, San Francisco, Vermont, and at the Hip Hop Theater Festival Critical Breaks series in New York City. He has also been featured at the San Francisco and Washington, DC arms of the Hip Hop Theater Festival. He played the title character and co-wrote a 2004 adaptation of Dante’s Divine Comedy for the Living Word Festival and his stage play Harold’s Fall or King Will is the recipient of the 2009 Rod Parker Playwriting Fellowship.
George was featured on Season 6 of Russell Simmons Presents Def Poetry on HBO. He was the 2006 Youth Speaks Grand Slam Poetry Champion Read Full BioGeorge Watsky (born September 15, 1986) is a writer and performer who believes in the equal power of the tear and the belly laugh. Born and raised in San Francisco and now based in Los Angeles, he aims to cross-pollinate the stage, screen and stereo with work that speaks to both the humor and frustrations of modern life.
George was featured on Season 6 of Russell Simmons Presents Def Poetry on HBO. He was the 2006 Youth Speaks Grand Slam Poetry Champion, 2006 Brave New Voices International Poetry Slam Champion, and performed in a record six consecutive Youth Speaks Grand Slam Finals. The last three of those audiences, all topping out at over 3,000, were the largest ever for poetry slams anywhere in the world. In 2009 Watsky was one of three poets who performed live on FOX at the NAACP Image Awards in honor of Russell Simmons’ lifetime achievement award.
George has made strides to bring his poetic sensibilities to the theater world. His one-man show So Many Levels has been presented in Boston, San Francisco, Vermont, and at the Hip Hop Theater Festival Critical Breaks series in New York City. He has also been featured at the San Francisco and Washington, DC arms of the Hip Hop Theater Festival. He played the title character and co-wrote a 2004 adaptation of Dante’s Divine Comedy for the Living Word Festival and his stage play Harold’s Fall or King Will is the recipient of the 2009 Rod Parker Playwriting Fellowship.
More Genres
No Artists Found
More Artists
Load All
No Albums Found
More Albums
Load All
No Tracks Found
Genre not found
Artist not found
Album not found
Search results not found
Song not found
Sloppy Seconds
by Watsky
Fuck you if you love a car for its paint job
Love you if you love a car for the road trips
Show me the miles and your arms and the pink scar
Where the doctor had to pull out all the bone chips
'Cause you were pressing on the gas just a bit hard
Right in the moment where the road curved a bit sharp
And when you woke up, somebody was unclipping your seat belt
And pulling you from the open window of your flipped car
Cold pizza
Tie-dye shirts
Broken hearts
Give'm here, give'm here
Hand me downs
Give me give me leftovers
Give me give me sloppy seconds
Give em here, give em here
I don't care where you've been
How many miles, I still love you
I don't care where you've been
How many miles, I still love you
Show me someone who says they got no baggage
I'll show you somebody whose got no story
Nothing gory means no glory, but baby please don't bore me
We won't know until we get there
The who, or the what, or the when where
My favorite sweater was a present that I got a couple presidents ago
And I promised that I would rock it till it's thread bare
Bet on it
Every single person got a couple skeletons
So pretty soon, in this room
It'll just be me and you when we clear out all the elephants
Me and you and the elements
We all have our pitfalls
Beer's flat, the cabs have been called
And everybody and their momma can hear the drama
That's happening behind these thin walls
Cold pizza
Tie-dye shirts (tie-dye shirts)
Broken hearts
Give'm here, give'm here
Hand me downs (hand me downs)
Leftovers (leftovers)
Sloppy seconds
Give'm here, give'm here
I don't care where you've been
How many miles, I still love you
I don't care where you've been
How many miles, I still love you
I don't care (cold pizza)
Where you've been (tie-dye shirts)
How many (broken hearts) miles, I still love you
I don't care (hand me downs)
Where you've been (left overs)
How many (sloppy seconds) miles, I still love you
My pattern with women isn't a flattering image
But I don't want to run away because I said so
I don't want to be the guy to hide all of my flaws
And I'll be giving you the side of me that I don't let show
Everything in fashion
That has ever happened
Always coming crashing down
Better let go
But in a couple years it will be retro
You rock Marc Ecko
My shirts have the gecko
'Cause in the past man, I was hopeless
But now's it's why my little cousins look the dopest
(whoop whoop)
Fuck the fashion po-po
Have a stale doughnut, I don't need no tips
Fuck a five second rule
That's a plan I never understood
It's September in my kitchen in a Christmas sweater
Sipping cold coffee on the phone with damaged goods
And there is not a single place that I would rather be
I'm fucked up just like you are, and you're fucked up just like me
Cold pizza (cold pizza)
Tie-dye shirts (tie-dye shirts)
Broken hearts
Give'm here, Give'm here
Hand me downs (oh hand me downs)
Give me give me leftovers (leftovers)
Give me give me sloppy seconds
Give'm here give'm here
I don't care where you've been
How many miles, I still love you
I don't care where you've been
How many miles, I still love you
I don't care (cold pizza)
Where you've been (tie-dye shirts)
How many (broken hearts) miles, I still love you
I don't care (hand me downs)
Where you've been (left overs)
How many (sloppy seconds) miles, I still love you
Lyrics © Kobalt Music Publishing Ltd.
Written by: George Watsky
Lyrics Licensed & Provided by LyricFind
by Watsky
Fuck you if you love a car for its paint job
Love you if you love a car for the road trips
Show me the miles and your arms and the pink scar
Where the doctor had to pull out all the bone chips
'Cause you were pressing on the gas just a bit hard
Right in the moment where the road curved a bit sharp
And when you woke up, somebody was unclipping your seat belt
And pulling you from the open window of your flipped car
Cold pizza
Tie-dye shirts
Broken hearts
Give'm here, give'm here
Hand me downs
Give me give me leftovers
Give me give me sloppy seconds
Give em here, give em here
I don't care where you've been
How many miles, I still love you
I don't care where you've been
How many miles, I still love you
Show me someone who says they got no baggage
I'll show you somebody whose got no story
Nothing gory means no glory, but baby please don't bore me
We won't know until we get there
The who, or the what, or the when where
My favorite sweater was a present that I got a couple presidents ago
And I promised that I would rock it till it's thread bare
Bet on it
Every single person got a couple skeletons
So pretty soon, in this room
It'll just be me and you when we clear out all the elephants
Me and you and the elements
We all have our pitfalls
Beer's flat, the cabs have been called
And everybody and their momma can hear the drama
That's happening behind these thin walls
Cold pizza
Tie-dye shirts (tie-dye shirts)
Broken hearts
Give'm here, give'm here
Hand me downs (hand me downs)
Leftovers (leftovers)
Sloppy seconds
Give'm here, give'm here
I don't care where you've been
How many miles, I still love you
I don't care where you've been
How many miles, I still love you
I don't care (cold pizza)
Where you've been (tie-dye shirts)
How many (broken hearts) miles, I still love you
I don't care (hand me downs)
Where you've been (left overs)
How many (sloppy seconds) miles, I still love you
My pattern with women isn't a flattering image
But I don't want to run away because I said so
I don't want to be the guy to hide all of my flaws
And I'll be giving you the side of me that I don't let show
Everything in fashion
That has ever happened
Always coming crashing down
Better let go
But in a couple years it will be retro
You rock Marc Ecko
My shirts have the gecko
'Cause in the past man, I was hopeless
But now's it's why my little cousins look the dopest
(whoop whoop)
Fuck the fashion po-po
Have a stale doughnut, I don't need no tips
Fuck a five second rule
That's a plan I never understood
It's September in my kitchen in a Christmas sweater
Sipping cold coffee on the phone with damaged goods
And there is not a single place that I would rather be
I'm fucked up just like you are, and you're fucked up just like me
Cold pizza (cold pizza)
Tie-dye shirts (tie-dye shirts)
Broken hearts
Give'm here, Give'm here
Hand me downs (oh hand me downs)
Give me give me leftovers (leftovers)
Give me give me sloppy seconds
Give'm here give'm here
I don't care where you've been
How many miles, I still love you
I don't care where you've been
How many miles, I still love you
I don't care (cold pizza)
Where you've been (tie-dye shirts)
How many (broken hearts) miles, I still love you
I don't care (hand me downs)
Where you've been (left overs)
How many (sloppy seconds) miles, I still love you
Lyrics © Kobalt Music Publishing Ltd.
Written by: George Watsky
Lyrics Licensed & Provided by LyricFind
To comment on specific lyrics, highlight them
SIGN UP
-or-