Title Track

Ben, this is a count out (yep)
 The cue?
 Oh, no, that's
 ♪
 Left uninspired by the crust of railroad earth
 That touched the lead to the pages of your manuscript
 I took my thumb off the concrete and saved up all my strength
 To hammer pillars for a picket fence
 It wasn't quite what it seemed, a lack of pleasantries
 My able body isn't what it used to be
 I must admit, I was charmed by your advances
 Your advantage left me helplessly into you
 Talking how the group had begun to splinter
 And I could taste your lipstick on the filter
 ♪
 I tried my best to keep my distance from your dress
 But call-response overturns convictions every time
 My memory cannot recall, a wave of alcohol
 We shared a cigarette and shaved the hours off
 Talking how the group had begun to splinter
 And I could taste your lipstick on the filter
 Lushing with the hallway congregation
 My best judgment signed its resignation
 I rushed this, we moved too fast
 Tripped into the guest room
 I rushed this, we moved too fast
 Tripped into the guest room