The rain is busting the fog with holes
|
and you're wheezing like a stricken deer
|
I will punch the wall with
|
the flash of headlights
|
through the spit and beer
|
|
|
Scrape off the mud, this is car crash love
|
Scrape off the mud, this is car crash love
|
|
|
F. Scoot screams at Zelda's feet
|
and it's poppin' in his throat
|
Scrambling like two dobermans
|
who are running down a goat
|
|
|
Play fights end with an extra shove
|
This is car crash love
|
Scrape off the mud, this is car crash love
|
|
|
She had something in her veins
|
that was meant for broken arms and legs
|
He kept her warm when she quit
|
and then she took his whip
|
There's a sunken iceberg with a very pointy tip
|
|
|
On again, off again, but the jail is always there
|
with short feelings of commitment
|
when a tongue is touching hair
|
|
|
Scrape off the mud, this is car crash love
|
Scrape off the mud, scrape off the mud
|
here is car crash love
|
Play fights end with an extra shove
|
This is car crash love
|
|
-----------------
|
Car Crash Love
|
| The Odds |
