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He was a husband who drove his wife home drunk from the parties |
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He was a husband who drove his wife home |
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And in the car he would gently lean her head on the side door window |
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And in the bathroom he would hold her hair back and hope, saying; |
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They build buildings |
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Oh they build buildings |
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Oh they build buildings |
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So tall these days |
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And in the morning she'd wake up and crouch recollections all day |
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But she would always always wake up the next morning |
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And he'd take one look at her a say "Baby that's okay" |
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And her conscience would issue yet another last warning, saying; |
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They build buildings |
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Oh they build buildings |
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Oh they build buildings |
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So tall these days |
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And she would ask for time |
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And she'd ask for time |
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And she would ask for time |
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And she would beg for time |
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And she would beg for time |
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And beg for time |
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And call it a gift |
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And he would give her time |
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And he'd give her time |
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And he would give her time |
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And he'd give her time |
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But time is not given and time is not taken |
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It just sifts through its sift |
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And it was coffee and coffee and coffee and coffee and coffee |
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And coffee some more |
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He'd go to work and she'd take a sick day and rot at the core |
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And by the time he came back she'd scrub the bathroom and make it smell like pine |
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It would be almost as if nothing had happened |
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And he'd give her time, saying; |
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They build buildings |
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Oh they build buildings |
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Oh they build buildings |
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Oh don't they build buildings |
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Oh they build buildings |
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They build buildings so tall these days |
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And she would ask for time |
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And shed ask for time |
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And she would ask for time |
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And she would beg for time |
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And she would beg for time |
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And beg for time and call it a gift |
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And he would give her time |
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And he'd give her time |
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And he would give her time |
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And he'd give her time |
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But time is not given and time is not taken |
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It just sifts through its sift |
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He was a husband drove time home pine scrub bathroom window |
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Don't they build buildings so tall these days |
