| Twisted and turned
|
| All roads lit and burned
|
| As we watched every move that we made
|
| And the time crept on slowly like miles per hour
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| On your dashboard as we look the same
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| As we do every year
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| Red and green reflected lights from ear to ear
|
| But I bet you take all the boys here
|
| A baseball player’s front lawn failures
|
| Will choke on the note inside his mailbox
|
| It reads
|
| «Don't give up, try hanging more lights from your rooftop»
|
| But our suggestions hardly ever work
|
| I twist and turn through sarcastic groans
|
| While we’ve measured the weight of our days
|
| With souls the size of dinner plates
|
| But does he understand you like you need him too?
|
| Which one of us two has really heard the truth?
|
| I bet you take all the boy here
|
| A baseball player’s front lawn failures
|
| Will choke on the note inside his mailbox
|
| I write
|
| «Don't give up, try saving a night in December»
|
| But my suggestions hardly ever work
|
| We hardly ever work
|
| Save my side
|
| Ten mile ride
|
| Safe, sound, and silent tonight
|
| Safe, sound, and silent enough to prove me right |