The shoulders and arms that we invested In the summer Were bridges we built in lo-fi And quiet talk And I am scared to death that this One will turn another and We will abandon all our plans You know this isn’t us If only I could reach you If only I could reach through the phone to Tell you everything An able mouth would say, maybe Maybe things would be OK Dallas is burning overhead this caravan Immune to age and Advertising disregard Don’t go asking of yourself now A desperate attempt to fashion you A brand new tourniquet over Empty signals and verbs