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 the 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

You'll never win the way you won again