Jets To Brazil
I Typed for Miles
I live in a hotel, I must keep writing
If I'm to be better than everyone else
Like figure skating, like asphyxiating
On your own seeping fumes, you're just waiting
Living in a hotel, I'm not traveling
Between two points, in midair I'm levitating
Above the earth, beneath the sky, with eyes like static
In my three feet from bed to wall sleeps a genius
Leave me here to my devices
The call could come at any time
They're playing love songs on the radio tonight
I can't relate to that right now
Note to self, no one cares, your voice is average
In worried piles I typed for miles, you just stood there
I will begin, I will put right this morning terror
I have been kissed between the ears with human error
Leave me here to my devices
I need a word to change my life
I've tied my ankles to the table legs with wire
He can't write so much as type
Leave me here to my devices
I can't think with all this noise
They're playing love songs on your radio tonight
I don't get those songs on mine
You keep fucking up my life
You keep fucking up my life
You keep fucking up my life
You keep fucking up my life