There's just enough bright lights for me to see where we are you faked poetry and i faked a running car.
O, miranda,
You're so careful bout your regrets
You expect the air but always breathe less.
Cast away in this two-bit town, and i don't blame you;
But i could kiss the ground for stayin.
You talk a lot about your father, yeah,
I guess he knows you.
Eight-year old flowers, faucets,
And good escapes from bad maids.
O, miranda, don't run out of loose takes.
O, miranda, don't run out.
I wanted to believe in all the magic of your surrogate affections.
While you're breathin down my neck, you'll always be my favorite misconception.
Na na na.