View from Below

The hallway smells of lemon

With my face pushed to the ground

The windows at their very best

Are dripping to the sound

You'll never win the way you won again

You'll never win the way you won again

In the bedroom, bastard swings a plastic vodka jug

And I can see your penny loafers drop onto the rug

You'll never win the way you won again

You'll never win the way you won again

Wish it was a one-way mirror on the ceiling

And I was looking through from the attic

Instead of getting carpet burn when I'm turning

Fighting sparks in the dark from the static

Two legs of the coffee table

Are scratched up by your cat

Well, I may take him far away

What would you think of that?

You'll never win the way you won again

You'll never win the way you won again

You, the bastard, and vodka

Me and the floor

Another perfect marriage

Another perfect war

You'll never win the way you won again

You'll never win the way you won again

You'll never win the way you won again