This car is a metal coffin and,
I tried to live, oh baby, but how
am I? when your hand is holding
onto my neck like your about to die?
A silent death-grip bound in blood
and teeth. Each breath triggers
the clocks to suspend and slow.
Pretty soon the road ends and
baby, pretty soon there's no where
else to go. The trunks will smash
and twist, the glass will crack and hiss,
When our skin bashes in, and our
heads are outside in, Baby,we'll
both drop down past the ground
and fall into Below.
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