Lyrics
It was Don Delillo, whiskey neat, and a blinking midnight clock
Speakers on the TV stand, just a turntable to watch
When the smoke came out our mouths on all those hooded sweatshirt walks
We were a stroke of luck
We were a gold mine, they gutted us
And from the sidelines you see me run
Until I'm out of breath
Living the good life, I left for dead
The sorrowful midwest
Well, I did my best
To keep my head
It was grass-stained jeans and incompletes
And a girl from class to touch
But you think about yourself too much
And you ruin who you love
Well, all these claims at consciousness
My stray dog freedom
Let's have a nice, clean cut
Like a bag we buy and divvy up
And from the sidelines I see you run
Until you're out of breath
And all those white lines that sped us up
We hurry to our death
Well, I lagged behind
So you got ahead
