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