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A Little Fight

de Silverstein

Can we talk about something else?
I can't stand the sound of my own voice right now
It's hard not to make a scene
When you stand at the door with your car keys saying
I hope the water's not too cold
I hope the water's not too close to the interstate
Where the guardrails gone by the edge of the lake
And tears start to fill your eyes
While you're crossing fast over painted lines (oh)
With four wheels pointed towards the shore

You give in and you give up on
Control of yourself and of everything else
There is nothing to fear when you're living in hell
And everything's winning but nothing makes sound
And you're trying to scream, but the words don't come out
And you know
It's too late now
It's too late now
It's too late now
It's too late

It's too late now
It's too late

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