From the recording Twelves
Lyrics
it always comes one time of year
when the wrecking ball feels near
so grab some visine and some coins
we’re headed for the coast
we’ll deftly navigate
the maze of interstate
a thousand cars,
a billion stars,
still running from our
ghosts
but when we got there
we stood
surprised
and surrounded
by debris
it seems the boardwalk
and the arcade
were swallowed by the sea
our pockets weighed down
with washington’s severed head
was no relief
god bless those high scores
forever lost
in this coin-op tragedy