when the gravel turns to oil and you're sliding

was it your intention to be part of it all

or to never take part at all
and now you won't be bothered with your past

but it was never my intention to push you away



so light the torches and turn the ringer off

let's get back, yeah we gotta get back

to where we once belonged

be what may



this hunt for something worth while to make us stick

well our goal is getting fuzzy

and our hopes are running dry

it's all a matter of finding the other half of your brain

and the whole of your heart

so these optimistic songs we hear they mean nothing at all

because things will never be ok this way



so scrimp and save

and blow your fingernails dry

and some of the guilt away

but you know that he's coming

be what may