Testo Getaway Car

Drunk at an open bar
Coating your lungs in tar
You said you saw the pain right behind my eyes
As if my transparency had earned you a prize

Wishing I'd stopped you, then
You opened your mouth again
Turning your anecdotes into a net Holding me under your heady ascent

High and saying nothing
High and saying nothing
High and saying nothing
Nothing at all

Staring at the open sky
I said I feel small tonight
You took that to mean I was choked by my grief
But really it was an overwhelming relief

To be high and feeling nothing
High and feeling nothing
High and feeling nothing Nothing at all
Nothing at all
Nothing at all

Standing here, two feet apart
I imagine myself in a getaway car