Sweet sound of a rare bird with combination skin
Walk away from the car wreck, two bruises on her bare arms
Suckin' on the medicine
Sweet pain of a cold glass on the table that you set for me
Countin' down to the car crash, three secrets on a mattress
Its the turn of a century, turn of the century

And anything will feel better when you get it out
That's called felicity, felicity, yea
And everything will feel better when you get it out
That's called felicity, felicity, yea

Sweet sight of an old friend, with abalone eyes
Says you gotta be conscious, stop acting like you've lost it
Both punishment and prize, both punishment and prize

And anything will feel better when you get it out
That's called felicity, felicity, yea
And everything will feel better when you get it out
That's called felicity, felicity, yea

Spit it in the palm of my hand
That's an anger I can understand
Say what you've been meaning, get it off your jaw
Punch me in the viscera, I can take it
Spit it in the palm of my hand, yea
That's an anger I can understand
Say what you've been meaning, get it off your jaw
Punch me in the viscera, I can take it

And everything will feel better when you get it out
That's called felicity
And everything will feel better when you get it out
That's called felicity, felicity