there's a theory i got cookin'
about the way the body moves
geography as introspection
or a section of the truth
if every mountain is a person
and i am sitting in the car
where everything's a part of movement
we've been moving far apart
and i’m thinking about the way you hold your arms
yeah every little landscape breaks my heart

back in ‘95, mom and dad were screaming
and you were leaving out the back door of your mind
you said you're reading signs, you ask "what kind of dreaming
leads you down rabbit holes where rabbits die?"

so then we made a pact, you taught me mathematics
and it was my job just to make you laugh
to tie some strings around our hands
and every little landscape breaks apart

ten years later at the Holiday Inn breakfast
i started crying, oh man i was surprised
i called and said “i’m sick, this is it,
i inherited something i can’t deny”

you said “maybe you did, you gotta deal with it”
you will lean on me when you’re losin sleep
i’ll lean on you when i have those dreams
where every little landscape breaks apart
breaks apart

yeah some things, they come together
yeah some things don’t always get so dark
yeah some things, they come together
is there a way to fix up the ground
and make it come together
make some things never get so dark
yeah some things, they come together
is there a way to fix up the ground
to the way it was
to write Eloise in the dust
to be everything all at once
to be everything to everyone

well i don't quite want to make it work
in every doctor there's an urge to hurt
in every glass of water there's a speck of dirt
in every cobweb something lies inert
well i don't quite want to make it work

so here i am now in this dirty shirt
i’m cooking dinner in this dirty shirt
thinking "is this existence in this dirty shirt?"
yeah is this existing? i’m gonna make it work