the village (live)

[Verse 1] No, your mom don't get it and your dad don't get it Uncle John don't get it And you can't tell grandma 'cause her heart can't take it And she might not make it, no They say, "Don't dare, don't you even go there Cutting off your long hair, you do as you're told" Tell you, "Wake up, go put on your makeup This is just a phase you're gonna outgrow" [Chorus] Something wrong in the village, in the village, whoa They stare in the village, the village, whoa There's nothing wrong with you, it's true, it's true There's something wrong with the village, with the village There's something wrong with the village [Verse 2] Feel the rumors follow you From Monday all the way to Friday dinner You got one day's shelter And it's Sunday hell to pay, you young, lost sinner Well I've been there, sitting in that same chair Whispering that same prayer half a million times It's a lie though, buried in disciples One page of the Bible isn't worth a life [Chorus] Something wrong in the village, in the village, yeah, whoa They stare in the village, the village, whoa There's nothing wrong with you, it's true, it's true There's something wrong with the village, with the village There's something wrong with the village, oh Whoa, whoa, yeah [Chorus] There's something wrong in the village, in the village, yeah, whoa They stare in the village, the village, whoa There's nothing wrong with you, it's true, it's true There's something wrong with the village, with the village There's something wrong with the village Whoa, whoa, yeah [Outro] Thank you, thank you Jennifer Aniston drinks this shit I would go so straight for her (Ew) Did somebody say, "Ew"? Oh my god I've always had this... (Vodka?) No, it's a non-alcohol singer's soothing throat spray, professional strength, number one seller That's not English I have this image of her, it's a real thing I have this dream, you know, uh, and um, we're in Lake Tahoe I wake up, it's like a wooden bed, a lot of, like, neutral tones Big white pillows, California king I wake up, it's snowing, I'm like, "Oh" I walk down the wooden stairs You know, like wood, like, where it's like, "Fuck, that's fucking wood," it's not like it looks like wood, it's like that's a stick And I walk down and she's there sitting Indian style on a bar stool, humongous white marble counter top, with a huge mug in her hands, wearing fuzzy socks and a big polo button-up shirt And I'm like, "There's my lady" One thing I have found is that other people that have that same vision are also gay 'cause that's a very gay vision Blot? (Me) You blot (I'm blotting) What are you blotting? (She's sweaty) She's sweaty I don't know, I'm gonna play some more songs I had a lot of trouble getting over that boy I wrote a lot of these songs about it I've made it to the other side, God bless Um, but I wrote this song, uh, about it a few years after we'd broken up That sounds kind of pathetic, but that's okay He, um, moved 11 blocks away from me And felt like an attack on me, on my well-being So I wrote a song about it I tattooed a map to his apartment on my arm I made hats with a map to his apartment on it And, uh, as any sane person does And this is that song, it's called "11 Blocks"