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"Contact"


The tires are the things on your car

That make contact with the road

The car is the thing on the road

That takes you back to your abode


The tires are the things on your car

That make contact with the road

Bummed is what you are

When you go out to your car and it's been towed


I woke up one morning in November

And I realized I love you

It's not your headlights in front

Your tailpipe, or the skylight above you

It's the way you cling to the road

When the wind tries to shove you

I'd never go riding away

And come back home without you