Now I know you can never trust the man With an offer in his hand Even if it's what you plannedSo we agree to believe in something else Before this quaking world melts I wish it, mostly wellIn the weeds of a weekend dream you hit On a scheme that seems to fit And I swear, I'm into itIIt's a long ride from the tower where we met Fissioned thin, half-dead Then cracked the ceiling back insteadHow the reasons turn to backwards When we learn that they're such bastards And you're the kind of match Who wasn't sure that she would catchI'll meet you halfway in between Broadway and any field of green Everyone gets stuck But let's not give a fuck
