You come out swinging again. Up on a wind and down on a friend. It's a fine day. . It gets so cold in here. You burn up in the atmosphere. For a fine day, a fine, fine day.
Something's crawling on my back. And digging holes in my head. Something's climbing through the crack. And hiding under the bed. . All you can do without.
All that's real. You're pushing it slowly back under the wheel. We can stay. Two feet apart and a whole world away. You're keeping score. Standing on mountains and hoping for more.