| Outside, there’s a boxcar waitin' for us. |
| It ain’t in a rush
|
| So we can paint with a brush made of patience and such
|
| And keep the faith in our guts
|
| Now these ants in my heart got it dancin' in the dark
|
| With a flash and a spark, she advances with a shark
|
| In a choke hold, no cold, we’re eatin' good tonight
|
| The two leadin' look-a-likes, from every seedy nook in site
|
| Hindsight flight of the offshore fishermen
|
| This feelin' even better than the fair-weather men
|
| That led me to believe, led me to the seas
|
| Where the fish and disease are just wicks lit in the breeze
|
| Leave, the injuries leave like a treaty
|
| From the hand of the bleeding, while we stand there repeating
|
| «We can’t leave this evening; |
| it’s too young to start retreating
|
| We can’t leave this evening; |
| it’s too young to start retreating.»
|
| So now we’re leaping from highs to highers
|
| As we’re sleeping beside a fire
|
| And it’s creeping inside the bed
|
| Creeping inside the bed, creeping inside the bed
|
| So with a stomach full of monarchs and eat, sleep on repeat
|
| We leave them two leaves and leave this life
|
| At ease riders on a storm
|
| Too perfect to put into words; |
| perfect is what it deserves
|
| Curve the hurt and the nerves, so we can work our limbs
|
| Around an urge and grin and bear the verge of overkill
|
| Motor skill heads, heading towards a bed of roses, called a haystack
|
| And on the way back, I see her face crack
|
| She’s having dreams that a runaway cat came back
|
| And I don’t know what to say that’ll change that
|
| And I can’t take that (I can’t)
|
| So when I can taste your misery, vividly
|
| I want to instantly turn it into history
|
| Bitterly sweet hearts and in the restart
|
| Livin' like we heart too heart to heart for… |