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We're the fugitives of american portions |
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Caught on the sleeves of yesterday's conquered |
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From the fresh cut grass out on the interstate |
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Where the wheels keep on rolling |
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'Til we've sealed our fate |
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Tinsel and sawdust, who's gonna give you up |
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So here's a guitar that you use to strum |
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You never got very far but you could still sing along |
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The oblique pastiche of childhood memories |
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Has got you down on your knees |
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You know you can't escape these things |
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Tinsel and sawdust, who's gonna give you up |
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It's not who you are it's just what you've become |
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Skies fold into roads, we've been gone for days |
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Feeling more at home when I'm this far away |
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Flip the cassette of the mixed tape you made |
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Light up a joint, let our souls catch some rays |
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Tinsel and sawdust, I'm gonna give you up |
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It's not who you are, it's just what we've become |
