Talk About Lyrics - Drunk Like The Bible Times - Dear And The Headlights

You're like a constant crowding consonant 

I'm a claustrophobic; I, I said 

We're as comfortable as wool warming naked indifference 

Thank God your words have come to rescue me from my sentence 

You're like a two stepping tongue on a flesh dance floor 

You're the eulogy I can't avoid anymore 

That tumor in my side celebrating malignance: 

"Surprise! I'm moving in; I think I've grown on your parents" 

You want to talk about all the feeling I'm feeling 

I'm a passed out priest in an AA meeting 

And they're checking my pulse, trying to make a decision 

I've got those rolled back eyes but nothing's clouding my vision 

You're like a knock at the door in the middle of dinner 

From the friendly registered sex offender 

All equipped with a mustache and a windowless van 

You're telling me how much you've changed 

I'm trying to hide the crayons and no you can't come in 

I'm like your neighbor's hands on your father's throat: 

"Sweetie, you go back inside, see this is just for adults" 

So adult is what we'll be, domestic violence in denim 

Each tumble down the stairs appeals your puff paint addendum 

You say I'm your backpack caught on a chain link fence 

But dear I'm a thank you card in the future tense 

I'm jumping out of cakes serving divorce papers 

I'd say I love you too but I'm all out of favors 

You want to talk about all the feelings I'm feeling 

Like your chalkboard wrists but I don't tally the meaning 

You keep forgetting the plot, let alone the long sleeps 

My eyes, they only know three words and each is pronounced "Please!?" 

And I would walk you home if I could find my crutches 

Probably listen more if you didn't talk so much 

Why don't you show yourself out 

How can you cry now, this whole thing's been such a drought! Alright! 

You want to talk about all the feelings I'm feeling 

You're a phone call home after eight long seasons 

There's a mail order bride and a baby that's teething 

Said the smog, it hurts your eyes, so on the next train you're leaving 

I'm not certain it's the smog, more just the constant grieving 

But first you're dropping off the kid, sticking me with the feeding 

I said, oh God damn it you're so mean 

You say I'll lose the Christian crowd if I say things like these 

But I've already lost them, I couldn't care less 

I guess my path, it just got wide, so I'll just wish you all my narrow best 

I guess that's it