1,2,3,4
Capistrano swallow, answer to your inner voice and please return
God installed that radar in your pointy little beak so you'd return
Epileptic surgeons with their eyes x'ed out attend to a torn up kid
Who salivate and reckon with all the sick things that you did
The secondary stumbles 'cause the cadence of the count has lead them astray
Pray their intuition leads them crashing into bodies in a perfect way
But I, I saw you
Reeling in a parking lot
I, I saw you
Rallying 'round a parking lot
Line up for the comfort and kick it on the bumper
No, there is no leeway, you're standing on the freeway in love
Motion, you were destined for the pauper's grave
Architecture students are like virgins with an itch they cannot scratch
Never build a building till you're 50, what kind of life is that?
Stalled out on an escalator wishing which way to return, up or down
My Palestinian nephew got his face blown off in a dusty craft
