We can go out to the country, I will let you drive my car
It's not so hard as you imagine and the trip is not too far

Here's the cure for rigor mortis
Here's the place that you call home
There are voices in you yet that
Haven't made their presence known

I will smuggle something in to get me through
I'm resigned and I can't win this fight with you

I'm not laughing at you, baby
You're so worried all the time
I could not replace her
Much as I would try to change your mind

I will smuggle something in to get me through
I will sling the epithets at everyone but you

We can go out to the country
You can drive my car around
We will drive away from nothing
And count crosses that I've found...