| If one of us had to go back on the dime one of is so mad we’re seeing blind
|
| Why is it that this punch is packed with knives words slice into my side
|
| If one of us had to make up for the crime I never got what shards of glass were
|
| mine
|
| Playing for keeps I’ll take the losers draw spit through teeth I’m open
|
| If I go go go and you say say say did you know what was yesterday
|
| And I liked to the car and in the drivers seat oh I broke the law repeat repeat
|
| Sped to the curb where I hit the gas did a three sixty and then I made a pass
|
| For another line that split my vision too wound up off the road chasing after
|
| you
|
| If one of us had to go back on the dime one of is so mad we’re seeing blind
|
| Why is it that this punch is packed with knives words slice into my side
|
| If one of us had to make up for the crime I never got what shards of glass were
|
| mine
|
| Playing for keeps I’ll take the losers draw spit through teeth I’m open
|
| So I tried to find another street slowed down to a halt behind me beep beep beep
|
| Sunk behind the wheel no one could see I’m a spy the one that punished me
|
| As I jotted down the color of dark hair by the bay window my lover turned to
|
| stare
|
| My chest skips a beat I’m on a losing streak I hang myself to dry and then I
|
| claim defeat
|
| If one of us had to go back on the dime one of is so mad we’re seeing blind
|
| Why is it that this punch is packed with knives words slice into my side
|
| If one of us had to make up for the crime I never got what shards of glass were
|
| mine
|
| Playing for keeps I’ll take the losers draw spit through teeth I’m open
|
| Running in circles hitting a brick wall you got me stumbling I’m bumbling I
|
| still call
|
| Isn’t it just us to look for the keyhole that leads to the gutter I stammer I
|
| sutter
|
| Imagine me like this elegant hot mess finally disasterously finding the last
|
| press on
|
| Nailed to the cross my emotions are used funny how when you’re broke all debts
|
| are due
|
| If one of us had to go back on the dime one of is so mad we’re seeing blind
|
| Why is it that this punch is packed with knives words slice into my side
|
| If one of us had to make up for the crime I never got what shards of glass were
|
| mine
|
| Playing for keeps I’ll take the losers draw spit through teeth I’m open |