I'm on the phone while I'm driving, take my hand off of these wheels to keep my legs from shaking, moving to the crashing of cymbals, growing into themes, near to "mesmerize", but never right on time. You say that you mean it this time more? Last time turned to nothing, this I'm sure, but I've been wrong before, and how this feels, and how Liz sings "I won't decorate my love" has got me thinking, it's got me dreaming of imaginary times on an imaginary couch listening to imaginary records and with imaginary mouths saying "boy, this is it," "this must be it". Please, can't this just be it.
Lyrics submitted by Aniland