[Intro: Frantic, rhythmic acoustic guitar strumming, slightly muted, building a nervous energy. The muffled floor tom taps a steady heartbeat.] [Verse 1: Raw, conversational vocal delivery over a steady, driving acoustic pattern] I took a pair of pliers to the radiator hose Watched the green coolant bleed out where the driveway goes Limped the blue Chevy down to 4th and Main Just to see the grease stains on your denim again You popped the hood, sunlight catching the red in your hair I stood by the tire rack, breathing in the solvent and the heavy air You told me it’s an easy fix, just a cracked line I handed you my debit card and told you I was doing fine [Chorus: Guitar opens up to full, ringing chords, vocals become more earnest and quivering] And I am financing my own decay Thirty-five dollars an hour, plus parts, just to hear you say my name Every slipped belt and shattered glass Is a toll I pay to watch the morning pass In the shadow of your hydraulic lift I am buying ruin, and I’m calling it a gift [Verse 2: Tempo slightly increases, vocals become more strained and urgent] I read about the Ship of Theseus in a paperback book If you replace every plank, is it the same vessel you took? I've bought three alternators, a timing belt, and a rusted-out door There's more of your handiwork here than the factory floor (More of you than the factory floor) You smell like WD-40, stale coffee, and sweat The most expensive perfume that I haven’t paid for yet You wipe your hands on a rag, say "I don't know how this car still runs" I just smile and nod, staring blind into the sun [Chorus: Full instrumentation, frantic strumming, vocals pushed to their limit] And I am financing my own decay Thirty-five dollars an hour, plus parts, just to hear you say my name Every slipped belt and shattered glass Is a toll I pay to watch the morning pass In the shadow of your hydraulic lift I am buying ruin, and I’m calling it a gift [Bridge: Guitar drops out completely. Just the droning synth and the vocal, hushed and intensely confessional, almost spoken-word] My landlord left a final notice taped to my front screen But I'm a willing martyr to this internal combustion machine We're building a temple in the carbon and the rust I am turning my credit score to absolute dust (Absolute dust) If I sever the brake lines, will you finally see That the only thing broken in this garage is me? [Guitar Solo/Instrumental Break: Frantic, aggressive acoustic guitar strumming, highly percussive, mimicking the sound of an engine knocking and sputtering, transitioning into a chaotic, almost discordant climax. The floor tom pounds relentlessly.] [Verse 3: Tempo pulls back, exhausted vocal delivery, almost spoken-sung] You handed me the keys, said "She's good to go" I thanked you, but my voice was hollow and low I pulled out of the lot, heard the engine purr clean The saddest goddamn sound that I have ever seen I made it two blocks down, pulled over by the park Popped the hood again in the gathering dark Took a wrench to the alternator, gave it a crack I’ll see you tomorrow morning. I’m coming back. [Outro: Rhythmic, hypnotic chanting over fading acoustic strums. The vocal teeters on the edge of a scream by the end.] I'm coming back. (Strip the gears) I'm coming back. (Grind the clutch) I'm coming back. (It's never too much) I'm coming back. [Final discordant strum, left to ring out and feedback slightly into silence]
