Someone is carrying my cookbook down south
Someone is breaking my made-over mouth
The path seems clear, if someone else steers
He's trying to figure you out
So take the metal from your knees
Straight as the pants you crease
If pulling in checks is just to hard
Why don't you join the coast guard?
We drove down the road with our books on our minds
Your existential expressions are harder to find
We're all heaven sent (or at least permanent)
I'll be with you none of the time
So take the metal from your knees
You're as straight as the pants you crease
If pulling in checks is just to hard
Why don't you join the coast guard