Lyrics Lopsided - At The Drive In
                                                This 
                                                is 
                                                the 
                                                accent 
                                                of 
                                                the 
                                                halfhearted 
                                                land.
 
                                    
                                
                                                Does 
                                                it 
                                                all 
                                                make 
                                                sense 
                                                now?
 
                                    
                                
                                                And 
                                                if 
                                                the 
                                                ship 
                                                was 
                                                built 
                                                in 
                                                bottled 
                                                sand,
 
                                    
                                
                                                Does 
                                                it 
                                                all 
                                                make 
                                                sense 
                                                now?
 
                                    
                                
                                                The 
                                                anchor's 
                                                kiss 
                                                was 
                                                scrawled 
                                                in 
                                                dyslexic 
                                                crayon.
 
                                    
                                
                                                Does 
                                                it 
                                                all 
                                                make 
                                                sense 
                                                now?
 
                                    
                                
                                                Is 
                                                this 
                                                just 
                                                    a 
                                                life 
                                                preserve 
                                                or 
                                                    a 
                                                bivouac 
                                                tenure?
 
                                    
                                
                                                The 
                                                tropic 
                                                of 
                                                cancer 
                                                answered, 
                                                "Drink 
                                                the 
                                                quicksand."
 
                                    
                                
                                                    A 
                                                mirror 
                                                was 
                                                splintered 
                                                on 
                                                the 
                                                decks 
                                                floor.
 
                                    
                                
                                                Does 
                                                it 
                                                all 
                                                make 
                                                sense 
                                                now?
 
                                    
                                
                                                    A 
                                                stowaway 
                                                that 
                                                lived 
                                                beneath 
                                                this 
                                                hull.
 
                                    
                                
                                                Does 
                                                it 
                                                all 
                                                make 
                                                sense 
                                                now?
 
                                    
                                
                                                The 
                                                anchor's 
                                                kiss 
                                                was 
                                                scrawled 
                                                in 
                                                dyslexic 
                                                crayon.
 
                                    
                                
                                                Yes, 
                                                it 
                                                all 
                                                makes 
                                                sense 
                                                now.
 
                                    
                                
                                                Is 
                                                this 
                                                just 
                                                    a 
                                                life 
                                                preserve 
                                                or 
                                                    a 
                                                bivouac 
                                                tenure?
 
                                    
                                
                                                This 
                                                tropic 
                                                of 
                                                cancer 
                                                answered, 
                                                "Drink 
                                                the 
                                                quicksand."
 
                                    
                                
                                                Its 
                                                gills 
                                                will 
                                                swim 
                                                faster 
                                                after 
                                                    a 
                                                breath 
                                                from 
                                                the 
                                                shore.
 
                                    
                                
                                                Is 
                                                this 
                                                just 
                                                    a 
                                                life 
                                                preserve 
                                                or 
                                                    a 
                                                bivouac 
                                                tenure?
 
                                    
                                
                                                Breathe 
                                                the 
                                                taste 
                                                of 
                                                salt 
                                                water.
 
                                    
                                
                                                Dry-heave 
                                                up 
                                                and 
                                                overboard!
 
                                    
                                
                                                Ponce 
                                                de 
                                                Leon 
                                                wrinkles.
 
                                    
                                
                                                Let's 
                                                make 
                                                it 
                                                young 
                                                again!
 
                                    
                                
                                                Boat 
                                                drinks 
                                                for 
                                                captains.
 
                                    
                                
                                                Row 
                                                our 
                                                boat, 
                                                stowaway!
 
                                    
                                
                                                Boat 
                                                drinks 
                                                for 
                                                captains.
 
                                    
                                
                                                Row 
                                                our 
                                                boat, 
                                                stowaway!
 
                                    
                                
                                                Is 
                                                this 
                                                just 
                                                    a 
                                                life 
                                                preserve 
                                                or 
                                                    a 
                                                bivouac 
                                                tenure?
 
                                    
                                
                                                The 
                                                tropic 
                                                of 
                                                cancer 
                                                answered, 
                                                "Drink 
                                                the 
                                                quicksand."
 
                                    
                                
                                                Its 
                                                gills 
                                                will 
                                                swim 
                                                faster 
                                                after 
                                                    a 
                                                breath 
                                                from 
                                                the 
                                                shore.
 
                                    
                                
                                                All 
                                                makes 
                                                sense 
                                                now.
 
                                    
                                
                                                If 
                                                your 
                                                map 
                                                was 
                                                torn,
 
                                    
                                
                                                Navigate, 
                                                navigate.
 
                                    
                                
                                                All 
                                                makes 
                                                sense 
                                                now.
 
                                    
                                
                                                If 
                                                your 
                                                compass 
                                                broke,
 
                                    
                                
                                                Navigate, 
                                                navigate.
 
                                    
                                
                                                All 
                                                makes 
                                                sense 
                                                now.
 
                                    
                                
                                                If 
                                                your 
                                                map 
                                                was 
                                                torn,
 
                                    
                                
                                                Navigate, 
                                                navigate.
 
                                    
                                
                                                All 
                                                makes 
                                                sense 
                                                now.
 
                                    
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