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lirik lagu jake mckelvie & the countertops - starts and fits

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each time we’re out here it’s starts and it’s fits
that means you’re up in the clouds and then you’re down in the pits
and you’re out on the cusp of maybe calling it quits
but the sucker won’t answer, it hears the tone and it splits

and i say how do you put out a love that’s doomed for disaster
just to reissue it later, expanded and remastered
if the clarity suffers but the turnaround’s faster
is the purchase still worth it, could it be a long laster?

find the sh~ll of your past, hold it up to your ear
i’m having a heck of a time getting the h~ll out of here
and then someone unlicensed who thinks they can steer
takes the wheel, hits the wall, busts the tired and the mirrors

and you pull off for a brief respite from combat
you see a girl at the gas pump who you barely even look at
and you say what if the car she was driving was the same one you had
do you think you’d stay for a while

but moments like this they just exacerbate the issue
they sharpen themselves and they lacerate the tissue
and they try as they will to compel or convince you
that a hurricane’s coming but it’ll probably miss you

and i used to worry more but now it seems clear to me
some kind of counter~conundrum, a reverse mystery
it’s a fine line to walk but a real clear one to see
and it’s a bright line that divides the sides between you and me
but everyone knows there’s no prize unless you win it
everyone knows, they just don’t want to admit it
and of course there’s a thousand different ways you can spin it
but the mornings they’ll creep up on you minute by minute

and as far as you can tell that’s just how it works
we act like a bunch of smug, stuck up, spoiled jerks
sign up for programs, earn points and get perks
and say everything’s fine even though everything hurts

and it’s funny cuz it’s true, but it’s sad cuz it’s you
and it’s bad not to brace for what’s bound to ensure
and it’s a waste to cut and paste just to later undo
control~save, control~close, pace around, control~new

is there a version of this where a person exists
who does not need a person on whom to subsist
and if so what term would you pick, is that a gift or a trick
if you’re building walls just to toss things against them and see if they stick

but if the air here was breathable
you bet i’d bottle and sell it by the cup
and if your heart was repeatable
then i’d do all i could not to gobble it up


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