View From Below

The hallway smells of lemon
With my face pushed to the ground
The windows, at their very best
Are dripping to the sound

You'll never win the way you won again
You'll never win the way you won again

Near the bed, the bastard
Swings a plastic vodka jug
And I can see your penny loafers
Drop onto the rug

You'll never win the way you won again
You'll never win the way you won again

Wish it was a one-way mirror on the ceiling
And I was looking through from the attic
Instead of getting carpet burn when I'm turning
Fighting sparks in the dark from the static

Two legs of the coffee table
All scratched up by your cat
Well I may take him far away
What would you think of that?

You'll never win the way you won again
You'll never win the way you won again

You, the bastard and vodka
Me and the floor
Another perfect marriage
Another perfect war

You'll never win the way you won again
You'll never win the way you won again
You'll never win the way you won again
You'll never win the way you won again