[Intro] You can keep your hands clean And still go home With a mess inside You can get them dirty Turning one little machine And somehow Feel lighter Funny how that works [Verse 1] Capsules in the window Catching pieces of the light I stop for a second Like I always do And there it is— That sensible little voice “Not tonight.” It has a hundred reasons Money Age Tomorrow What people might think All very reasonable So I put every reason In my pocket And walk away With nothing By the time I get home One little sentence Has followed me All the way there ... “I should've turned it.” Okay. Where exactly Do I throw that away? [Pre-Chorus] Nothing in my hands So technically They're clean Then why does my head Feel full of things I can't get rid of? [Chorus] Clean, clean What's a clean heart anyway? Dirty, dirty Who gets to decide? Maybe I don't get The one I wanted Maybe I get The worst one inside But if these hands Were mine And turning it Was my choice No regret No regret Maybe that's enough I'm holding a capsule I never would've picked And somehow I'm smiling Not my favorite Still— My heart feels clean [Verse 2] “You're too old for that.” “Don't waste your money.” “What are you even Gonna do with it?” The world has So many sensible things To say Sometimes They're so loud I can't hear My own voice underneath But maybe What makes me dirty Isn't my shirt My shoes Or the coins Sweating in my hand Maybe it's taking Something I wanted to do Wrapping it In a good excuse And keeping it For years That's the clutter I never knew How to clean [Pre-Chorus] If winning Is the only kind of clean That's a pretty Small world to live in Maybe failing And laughing about it Leaves me clearer Than yesterday [Chorus] Clean, clean What's a clean heart anyway? Dirty, dirty Who gets to decide? It doesn't have to be rare I turned the handle Because I wanted to One more wave One more wave The capsule falls— ... There. And something I've been carrying Falls with it Not my favorite Still— My heart feels clean [Bridge] Maybe cleaning up Isn't always Throwing something away Maybe every time I actually do The thing I wanted to do One “what if” Disappears One “someday” Gets smaller One “I should have” Finally Lets me go Maybe that's What clean means To me [Final Chorus] Clean, clean I don't need an answer Dirty, dirty I don't need a rule Whatever color This capsule is I chose To turn it myself Winner Loser Rare Common Favorite Not even close Maybe none of that Matters tonight If I don't have Another “what if” To carry home Then I didn't lose Capsule Wave Let it wash The clutter out Something small Inside my hand A little more room Inside my head So I'll walk home Smiling Not my favorite Still— My heart feels clean [Outro] Maybe clean Doesn't mean Never getting dirty Maybe it means Not carrying yesterday Into tomorrow ... One less “what if.” That's enough.
