There's a mark on my back
from my last heart attack
A whiskey mouth bottleneck cardstack

There's a source, of course,
she says: It's whispering at night
like air leaks from a tire
the truth outruns your lies (life)

If you jump track, thinkin' it's over
Remember?
Sooner or later it's over your shoulder

I've got a big mechanic mouth
it resonates with sound
A forked metallic tongue
it's green with what it's found

Spin my head around
for a different view
You can't look straight ahead
to see what's in front of you

If you jump track, thinkin' it's over
Remember?
Sooner or later it's over your shoulder

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