Contact Lyrics - Junta - Phish

The tires are the things on your car 

That make contact with the road 

The car is the thing on the road 

That takes you back to your abode 

The tires are the things on your car 

That make contact with the road 

Bummed is what you are 

When you go out to your car and it's been towed 

I woke up one morning in November 

And I realized I love you 

It's not your headlights in front 

Your tailpipe, or the skylight above you 

It's the way you cling to the road 

When the wind tries to shove you 

I'd never go riding away 

And come back home without you