Invalids

I'd rather be driving skyscrapers

Invalids
Come downstairs
Your dad won’t be there
Drive by her house
Emptied out the back

All the times you ran your mouth
Now suddenly you’re quiet
The broken yellow lines
Swallowed by the headlights


Done pushing around
Talking behind (y)our back

Dug up the ground
Asked you to lay down
No other sound
Asked you to lay down

Whatever it was, whatever I’ve done
I swear I take it all back
When it was done, when it was done
It never really went back

Showed up early for the train
Jerking into motion
And you jumped across the cars
Rushing towards the back
And you can’t work it out
On your own

And now you've got to work so hard
To stay in the same place
The engine and the iron rails
Will win it either way
All that’s left behind
Its only saving grace
There’s nothing close enough to tell
Just how fast you really go

Take the early evening flight
Packed your bags so long ago
You don’t know if you got it right
What you need and what you left behind

How bad is it?
How bad can it get?

You wash your hands
In holy water
They’re stained with blood

Done with digging holes
To just burry your shovel
Done with tying rope
So high that you can’t reach it

How bad is it?
How bad can it get?

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