Well, allright. Gonna stop my ride in the middle of the road - lay down look up at the stars.
Hell, allright. Seems there's plenty of space for the entire human race and a pickle or two on Mars.
Well, OK. You know there's nothing wrong and I won't be long looking up at the milky sweet and sour.
Hell, OK. She said I see it in your eye - there's a will to fly and a turtle-dove loving kind of power.
I feel it's time. Lay down your Guns-and-Butter philosophy.
I know it's time. Ten miles to Bliss,
'Cross the border of a kiss.
Well, allright. So she's showing me how to milk a sacred cow on a moony Sunday farm.
Hell, allright. But I'm a little bit confused about these Martian blues and their innocence to harm.
Well, OK. Should I dare to do Rogers and Astaire with a legless alien girl?
Hell, OK. Guess I'll stay for a while, learn the miracle mile, come back and give the Earth a twirl.
I feel it's time. Lay down your Guns-and-Butter philosophy.
I know it's time. Ten miles to Bliss,
'Cross the border of a kiss.
Well, allright. So I heard it was bad, some were filthy, some were had. Some were up to their knees in shit.
Hell, allright. But with a little space magic, we'll heal the tragic - turn dust into silver sand.
Well, OK. Stirred up a little faith from the wren to the wraith to embrace a loverly skit.
Hell, OK. So you see my little spry, there's a time for lullabye, and there's a time to strike up the band.
I feel it's time. Lay down your Guns-and-Butter philosophy.
I know it's time. Ten miles to Bliss,
'Cross the border of a kiss.
Val Holler - Ten Miles to Bliss Lyrics
Val Holler - Ten Miles to Bliss Lyrics
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Well, allright. Gonna stop my ride in the middle of the road - lay down look up at the stars.
Hell, allright. Seems there's plenty of space for the entire human race and a pickle or two on Mars.
Well, OK. You know there's nothing wrong and I won't be long looking up at the milky sweet and sour.
Hell, OK. She said I see it in your eye - there's a will to fly and a turtle-dove loving kind of power.
I feel it's time. Lay down your Guns-and-Butter philosophy.
I know it's time. Ten miles to Bliss,
'Cross the border of a kiss.
Well, allright. So she's showing me how to milk a sacred cow on a moony Sunday farm.
Hell, allright. But I'm a little bit confused about these Martian blues and their innocence to harm.
Well, OK. Should I dare to do Rogers and Astaire with a legless alien girl?
Hell, OK. Guess I'll stay for a while, learn the miracle mile, come back and give the Earth a twirl.
I feel it's time. Lay down your Guns-and-Butter philosophy.
I know it's time. Ten miles to Bliss,
'Cross the border of a kiss.
Well, allright. So I heard it was bad, some were filthy, some were had. Some were up to their knees in shit.
Hell, allright. But with a little space magic, we'll heal the tragic - turn dust into silver sand.
Well, OK. Stirred up a little faith from the wren to the wraith to embrace a loverly skit.
Hell, OK. So you see my little spry, there's a time for lullabye, and there's a time to strike up the band.
I feel it's time. Lay down your Guns-and-Butter philosophy.
I know it's time. Ten miles to Bliss,
'Cross the border of a kiss.
Hell, allright. Seems there's plenty of space for the entire human race and a pickle or two on Mars.
Well, OK. You know there's nothing wrong and I won't be long looking up at the milky sweet and sour.
Hell, OK. She said I see it in your eye - there's a will to fly and a turtle-dove loving kind of power.
I feel it's time. Lay down your Guns-and-Butter philosophy.
I know it's time. Ten miles to Bliss,
'Cross the border of a kiss.
Well, allright. So she's showing me how to milk a sacred cow on a moony Sunday farm.
Hell, allright. But I'm a little bit confused about these Martian blues and their innocence to harm.
Well, OK. Should I dare to do Rogers and Astaire with a legless alien girl?
Hell, OK. Guess I'll stay for a while, learn the miracle mile, come back and give the Earth a twirl.
I feel it's time. Lay down your Guns-and-Butter philosophy.
I know it's time. Ten miles to Bliss,
'Cross the border of a kiss.
Well, allright. So I heard it was bad, some were filthy, some were had. Some were up to their knees in shit.
Hell, allright. But with a little space magic, we'll heal the tragic - turn dust into silver sand.
Well, OK. Stirred up a little faith from the wren to the wraith to embrace a loverly skit.
Hell, OK. So you see my little spry, there's a time for lullabye, and there's a time to strike up the band.
I feel it's time. Lay down your Guns-and-Butter philosophy.
I know it's time. Ten miles to Bliss,
'Cross the border of a kiss.
Writer: Chris Knudson
Copyright: Lyrics © Sentric Music
Copyright: Lyrics © Sentric Music