Dammit I hate to be the type That's in it real quick before I'm done Dammit I hate to be the type Cause oh oh oh When the world stays spinning I feel tied And oh oh oh Where’s exotic living like Mumbai And oh oh oh When the world stays spinning I feel tied Then oh oh oh There's a high beam in a low side How would I go? I don't even know If I found myself a limerence of my own Down the yellow road Rushed in syllables If I found myself a limerence of my own life. Mumbai Mumbai Mumbai. Hell yaI, I, I Dammit I hate to be the type That sticks to black like a parasite Dammit I hate to be the type Cause oh oh oh When the world stays spinning I feel tied And oh oh oh Where’s exotic living like Mumbai And oh oh oh When the world stays spinning I feel tied Then oh oh oh There's a high beam in a low side How would I go? I don't even know If I found myself a limerance of my own Down the yellow road Rushing syllables If I found myself a limerance of my own I, I, I Still sitting by the fire waiting just a bit in the month of June Sitting by the fire Sitting by the fire Still sitting by the fire waiting just a bit in the month of June Sitting by the fire Sitting by the fire How would I go? I don't even know If I found myself a limerance of my own Down the yellow road Rushing syllables If I found myself a limerance of my own I, I, I How would I go? I don't even know If I found myself a limerance of my own Down the yellow road Rushing syllables If I found myself a limerance of my own How would I go, I don't even know How would I go, I don't even know How would I go, I don't even know How would I go, I don't even know