9 times out of ten the embassy
You've got in my heart is empty
But sometimes they manage to reel me in
With those old smile lines and
Those backseat backdrop nights
Still call for me to remember
Every crease and curve
Every set of nerves
I could have proved you wrong
I could have been so right
And sang a different tune
For tomorrows drive.
So hopefully the sound stretches
Out farther than you can reach
Because phone-tag is the safest game
To which I'll concede
But somewhere past the San Juans
I did what may have been so wrong
And dumped your ambassadors overboard.
