When the evening sun is setting low
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Blinding you on your drive home
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And the lanes of traffic all converge
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Causing you to curse every other word
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For to wish it all away
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Daily grind's got your screw stripped
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No can of wd40 can fix your situation
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Seems to be losing steam
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Dream's been dropped on credit cards
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And false hope pumping out of your soul
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Like oil in the gulf it's a dead end
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Drive it further deep into the ground
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Till the point's dull as your skull
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And the same sun that you curse
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Powers your hybrid heart home
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-----------------
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Half A Smidge
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| Calexico |
