Flippin' pancakes in the dead of night
Butter melts under the pale moonlight
Syrup drips like a golden stream
Midnight snacks or a fever dream
Stack them high,
let them fly Clouds of flour in the sky
Who needs sleep when you've got this?
Pancake towers and syrupy bliss
January, February,
March,
April,
May,
June,
July,
August,
September,
October,
November,
December
Spatulas dance in a rhythmic tune
Making breakfast under the moon
Stack them high,
let them fly Clouds of flour in the sky
Who needs sleep when you've got this?
Pancake towers and syrupy bliss
Whisk it fast like a beating heart
Late night feasts are a work of art
Pour the batter and make it spin
Every flip feels like a win
Now that I'm really looking at him,
this bitch kinda ugly.
Oh my god,
my Shayla!
Whisk it fast like a beating heart
Late night feasts are a work of art
Pour the batter and make it spin Every flip
feels like a win
You might say it looks sort of...
blue.
Stack
them high,
let them fly Clouds of flour in the sky
And then like it's like right,
it's like right,
like you know?
But like,
but at the same time I don't know because then sometimes it's like,
like,
I,
I,
like you know?
Like you go and then, and then but like...
Oh!
Oh! Like, right?
My life was a mess but...
I could clean my room.
Stack them high,
let them fly Clouds of flour in the sky
Who needs sleep when you've got this?
Pancake towers and syrupy bliss
Syrupy bliss