Everytime I hear that song
I go back to your backseat
90 degrees
Sweat dripping down my neck
A tightly coiled conscience
I remember closing my eyes
Closing them tighter
The room wasn't spinning
But my head was
If it all made sense
I would do it again
The ceilings are way too high
I knew that's why it wouldn't work
You are generally stupid
With these sweet edges about you
It's dark, alright
I haven't seen my face in months
Sometimes I feel like you're in the room with me
I'm always wrong
Yet, I swear I felt your hand
The other day
In the shower
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