The Word Lisa

Our pockets turned out, our change on the ground
Whatever we had is lost in the house
The carpets are dusty
Our bones are brittle from eating garbage and sitting down

Freaking out again at the supermarket
Putting out of order signs on things that work
Break a piece off that lobby fountain
Our points have been chiseled down
If we could all be happy at once, there'd be such competition

Jamming paperclips right into an outlet
Walk out with hundreds of dollars in junk to buy some chips
And lay in bed

(Whose side am I on?)
Second dollar, second cent
(We've got life here)
What we call life has to be worked out
(Left in dust to)
Carry ourselves out

When we get home, we won't be empty
We found a purpose in each other
Break the mirror, we get younger
Life will always be weird



Credits
Writer(s): Steven Buttery, Christopher Teti, Tyler Bussey, Katie Dvorak, Joshua Cyr, Derrick Shanholtzer, Gregory Horbal, David Bello
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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