| I’m on the run from Maryland
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| My Mazda full of skeletons
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| And I’ll find a place, we’ll all move in
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| Give it a year, do it again
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| Did I catch you at a bad time?
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| There’s a Blood Moon out and not a cloud in sight
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| But you said you weren’t feeling right
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| And not much more
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| Whisper a question, then make me ask it
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| You can be the case and I’ll be the basket
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| Five speed thoughts, but talking’s automatic
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| You need a chaperone, I need a casket
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| You know I always love a ride in a hearse
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| I’ll sit in shotgun if I don’t die first
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| Yeah, every time I try to talk to you
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| I get like this, I get the graveyard blues
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| I stop believing in the friend-zone
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| I know some things about you that your closest friends don’t
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| Love to meet your parents, but I’d hate to go to Fresno
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| Looks like you’re still going, I’m going to be a no-show
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| Whisper a question, then make me ask it
|
| You can be the case and I’ll be the basket
|
| Five speed thoughts, but talking’s automatic
|
| You need a chaperone, I need a casket
|
| You know I always love a ride in a hearse
|
| I’ll sit in shotgun if I don’t die first
|
| Yeah, every time I try to talk to you
|
| I get like this, I get the graveyard blues
|
| Whisper a question, then make me ask it
|
| You can be the case and I’ll be the basket
|
| Five speed thoughts, but talking’s automatic
|
| You need a chaperone, I need a casket
|
| On her birthday, she got Cassidy and I a guitar
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| And I notice, um, she’s feeling good about it |