I Write The B-Sides

I write the B-sides That make a small portion of the world cry I like the sea side And singing songs that make you not wanna die Throw a stone into the sea And wait for it to come back to me Better get out on the boat 'Cause someone told me that stones don't float I like to sit out back And look up at the squirrels in the trees They don't like radio tracks And they don't ever talk down to me Throw a nut up in the tree Gonna fall right back on me Well these guys know who they are And what they needs in their own backyard Woo ooh, woo ooh I like to play in the snow I stick my hand in, now where did it go? It might be mighty cold But that's all part of not doing what you're told