Knee at the bottom
Of the wheel as a guide
This thing was made to be grabbed
And thrown over the side

Feet on the dashboard
On the way home
Clipping your nails
Like a metronome

Raised glass to cheeks and unfamiliar hands
And pretending every place is a house
And we are all blinking

As long as the point of tears is yours
The last laugh
As long as the point of tears is yours
The last laugh

This is an imprecise surgeon now
Taking apart without putting back together at all

Knee at the bottom
Of the wheel as a guide
This thing was made to be grabbed
And thrown over the side

Feet on the dashboard
On the way home
Clipping your nails
Like a metronome

Far from the middle
We listen to the sounds they make

Far from the middle
We listen to the sounds they make

The sounds they make
The sounds they make
The sounds they make

The sounds they make
The sounds they make
The sounds they make

The sounds
The sound, the sound
The sound, the sound

Crutches and canvas searching for windows and bread
And pretending every place is a house
And we are all blinking

As long as the point of tears is yours
The last laugh
As long as the point of tears is yours
The last laugh