It was Don Delillo, whiskey neat,

And a blinking midnight clock

Speakers on a TV stand

Just a turntable to watch

Only smoke came out our mouths

On all those hooded sweatshirt walks

We were a stroke of luck

We were a gold mine that gutted us



And from the sidelines you'd 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 stain 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 divy up



And from the sidelines I see you run

Until i'm out of breath

And all those white lines that sped us up

We hurried to our death

Well I lagged behind...

So you got ahead