The Shape of Parking Lots at Midnight

[singer A] Right angle turn Cold paint on the ground Chain link frame Counting painted arrows Matching all the angles Covering your tracks Streetlights bending across the asphalt Everything measured wrong somehow [singer B] Clear blue sky Under the gym lights Everyone looked smaller then Everything looked flatter then Still tracing your shape in the parking lines (Flat and wide… Flat and wide…) [singer A] The lamp leans back Gray pavement melts The grid is wrong Your silhouette crossing tennis court lines Digital numbers skipping frames The second hand losing shape Every painted line pulling sideways Every memory flattening out [singer B] Clear blue sky Under the gym lights Everyone looked smaller then Everything looked flatter then Still tracing your shape in the parking lines (Flat and wide… Flat and wide…) [singer A] Slow down… The tape bends sideways Voices stretching through the fence I can't hold the shape anymore I can't hold the shape anymore [singer B] The tape is thin Shape of the lot Shape of the head Falling away (Away… Away…) Smaller then… Flatter then…