Close

Losing a wheel on a rammed interstate
And then finding a fix Thanksgiving day
And the show was a mess, we laughed the whole way
To the hotel, we dodge noise complaints
And I'm not sad anymore

But if you gotta go, go
We can blame it on timing
I will leave the light on in the hall
Don't wanna tie you down to a bird that's not flying
Or hold you anywhere but
Close, close, close
Close, close, close

The girl with the bangs
Has a temper to match her strawberry hair
She got from her dad
She's not mad and you you will find
She talks with her hands when she flips you the bird
Understand she is mourning the loss of a space in time

Well, if you gotta go, go
We can blame it on timing
I will leave the light on in the hall
Don't wanna tie you down to a bird that's not flying
Or hold you anywhere but
Close

Oh and when you go home is it me that you miss?
Can you divide the rotten fruit from her pit?
Always felt we went swingin', destined to miss
Always felt we were lightning just waiting, waiting to hit