| Picking up the tyres from the side of the road
|
| Gonna push back the coming tide
|
| Lay them in the harbour in symmetrical rows
|
| Disappear when the water is high
|
| Sitting and regretting now my sneakers are soaked
|
| So they’re drying in the sun outside
|
| It’s not what I intended when I woke up the house
|
| I was screaming, «we're all gonna die»
|
| And now we’re all in late trains
|
| Racing the motorway
|
| Getting rhyme over reason
|
| It’s a sinister silly season
|
| But maybe we can end up meaning a real thing
|
| Picking up the tyres from the side of the road
|
| Gonna push back the coming tide
|
| Laying down beside them like I’m in on the joke
|
| Wake me up when the world is fried
|
| And you’re sorry, I see it when you open your mouth
|
| You’ve got one hand over your heart while you’re holding me down
|
| Oh I, I want to hope but if that’s not allowed
|
| I guess I’ll go out instead
|
| Now we’re all in relay
|
| We all admit it’s strange
|
| Getting rhyme over reason
|
| It’s a sinister silly season
|
| But maybe we can end up meaning a real thing
|
| Getting rhyme over reason
|
| It’s a sinister silly season
|
| But maybe we can end up meaning
|
| End up meaning
|
| End up meaning a real thing
|
| Picking up the tyres from the side of the road
|
| Gonna push back the coming tide
|
| Picking up the tyres from the side of the road
|
| Gonna push back the coming tide |