WORDS
(I think that you should listen to the songs before you read these.)

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Arms and Hands
We’re trying to decipher notes taken down on arms and hands, but I cannot tell the difference between letter Es and ampersands. It’s boring to remember all the history we had before -- we dropped those crumbs of knowledge in the hopes we’d find our way back home once more. I need a cheat sheet with connect-the-dots to spell my name; I have no advice to give you, and even if I did it would all sound the same. Arms and hands, arms and hands, all I can offer you are arms and hands.

We’re trying to decipher notes taken down on arms and hands; all our mnemonics proven worthless, now just loops of string and rubber bands. We draw such thin lines between what’s true and what we believe, answers we’re sure we had somewhere now smears of ink and sweat between skin and sleeve. And all the lines are blurred now, and I’m dry -- pass me another pen. I have nothing else to give you, just the simple old solutions that embraced you and await you once again: Arms and hands, arms and hands, all I can offer you are arms and hands.
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Fingers
Your index finger is good for showing people where things are at.
Your pinkie you hold out to show your class.
Your ring finger tells us if you're single or if you're married,
and your thumb is needed when objects must be carried.

But save your middle finger for the man.
Always save your middle finger for the man.
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Happy
And I'm happy. At least, that's what they tell me -- would they have any reason to lie? At least I don't want to die anymore.

Happier than I've ever been before: Lying curled up on the floor, refusing to answer the door. I'm not the occupant they’re looking for; he doesn't live here anymore.

And I'm happy. At least, that's what they tell me. All I know is I'm not looking over my shoulder. All I know is that I wouldn't mind getting one day older.

Sitting propped up against the wall. Don't ever touch the phone when they call. There's usually no one there at all -- just the remnants of their laughter that echo down the hall.

And I'm happy. At least, that's what they tell me -- would they have any reason to lie? At least I don't want to die anymore. Happier than I've ever been before.
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Henry Pants
You gotta keep your ears clean
Gotta keep your teeth bright
Gotta keep your tail neat
Gotta keep your paws white
Gotta keep your stripes straight
Gotta learn a new dance
There’s so much to do when your name is Henry Pants!

You only got one sister
So you gotta do your half
Gotta make your house safe
Gotta make your mom laugh
Gotta make your naps last
Gotta eat snacks every chance
There’s so much to do when your name is Henry Pants!
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I Gave You Lots of Presents (But You Left Me In the Past)
I could never afford those diamond rings, but I bought you lots of other things, like the puppy that was blind in one eye and never really housebroken, and like the scratch-off that could've made you a millionaire, like the scarf that I thought went with your hair -- was I wrong to think we had a bond that was so strong but unspoken? I gave you lots of presents, but you left me in the past.

I bought us dinner and late night snacks like chicken strips in plastic sacks that came with dipping sauces: some had ranch and some had pesto. And I wrote this song for you with the same three chords I always use, but the words are something different, it’s a deep and heartfelt manifesto. I gave you lots of presents, but you left me in the past.

There’s a building called the Taj Mahal -- Persian carpets wall-to-wall! -- if I picked that up for you, would you say, "hey, big spender"? I should mail myself to your address gift-wrapped and shipped by UPS; maybe then you’d finally choose to return to sender. I gave you lots of presents, but you left me in the past.
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I'm Not So Sure It's Not a Broken Heart
Tell me, doctor, when you were my girlfriend, did you ever think that one day we’d meet again here at the clinic? And me with hat in hand, in need of relief -- the pain’s too much for me to stand. It started one day with a sudden pain in my chest (coincidentally, it was the same day that you left) and now you tell me it’s probably nothing to worry about. Not to second guess you, oh, but doctor, I have my doubts.

I don’t know, I don’t know, what exactly is wrong with me. Your analysis is what it is, I’m no expert but I disagree: I’m not so sure it’s not a broken heart. The signs and symptoms were all there from the start. Check the X-ray and the EKG but it won’t be on the chart. I’m not so sure it’s not a broken heart.

Tell me, doctor -- I feel like I may die -- are there any options that you think are worth a try? Try again, try again, check my heartbeat one more time; it’s irregular since you said you were moving on, no longer mine. I’m not so sure it’s not a broken heart.
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Let Me Wear Your Ring
We've been best friends for as long as I can remember. We shared our secrets, we shared everything. But the person that I cherished most you stole from me. Always a bridesmaid, never a bride, never a bride.

Won't you let me wear your ring? I promise I'll only keep it a minute.
Won't you let me eat your cake? I promise I won't spit in it.
I hope this is the happiest day of your life – oh yes – I hope it's all downhill from here.

I'm so sorry I didn't get you a present; I figured you already took what you wanted. We've shared so many secrets I thought you'd like to know: I've done him on your bed before.

Won't you let me wear your ring? I promise I'll only keep it a minute.
Won't you let me wear your dress? Are you sure that white's appropriate?
I hope this is the happiest day of your life – oh yes – I hope it's all downhill from here.
Straight down.
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Me and the Pedestal
The precise moment I put you on the pedestal was when you told me that you thought Dave Matthews sucked. And I apologize if this wasn’t what you had in mind -- once I get started, it’s tough to shut me off.

You stayed up there for just a day or two 'til you decided you did not like heights at all. You climbed down on your own and walked away leaving me here. Here with the pedestal.

Me and the pedestal, the pedestal and I. Looks like it’s just the two of us until the day I die. And people may point and laugh and they may call me names -- I don’t care. Without you it’s all the same.

Every day now I sit here with the pedestal and we reminisce about how things were then and how it felt to have you standing on top of us and what we wouldn’t do to have that back again.

Me and the pedestal, the pedestal and I. It’s the only thing you left to remember you by. There’s reasons not to finish things and reasons not to start, and by now I know them all by heart.

Me and the pedestal, the pedestal and I. Looks like it’s just the two of us until the day I die. Some days feel like clarity, some days feel like shame -- I don’t care. Without you they’re all the same.
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Or the next day, at the latest
Tune up, move out, according to schedule
Every day I go for a walk in the park
Every day I say I won't play Sin City
But every day I'm back before it gets dark

And look at me: I'm barely standing
1, 2, 3, 4, 5 -- face down on the floor
And every day I say:
"Tomorrow will be the day
that I won't do what they tell me anymore."

Living here is like spending a night at the opera:
It's not over 'til we see what the fat man brings
Every day I say I'll never be like him
But every day I want a few more of his things

And look at me: I'm barely standing
1, 2, 3, 4, 5 -- face down on the floor
And every day I say:
"Tomorrow will be the day
that I won’t do what they tell me anymore."

And look at me: I'm barely walking
I can move just well enough to toe the line
And every day I say:
"Tomorrow will be the day
that I finally make my life completely mine."

And look at me: I'm barely standing...
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Postcard
When you left behind everything that you did not need, I said, "You've got a hole in your heart." You said, "Let it bleed. Let it bleed."
I saw you to the bus station, and with a blessing and a curse I sent you on your way. I wish you well; I've wished you worse.
I will send you a postcard: "Wish I was there."
Do you ever think of me? And do you ever feel regretful? I know I do; I've found that absence makes the heart grow forgetful.
I will send you a postcard: "Wish I was there."
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Too Late to Sleep
It's too late now, too late to sleep. I spent the whole night counting sheep. Close the curtains and pin them shut, it's too early to see the sun. But it's too late, too late to sleep.
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Treehouse
I had a treehouse. O, a treehouse!
I had a treehouse when I was nine.
I was there all the time, and everything was fine.

Everyone told me -- o, they'd scold me!
Everyone told me not to bother the bees.
But I'll do as I please with bees in trees.

Then they stung me. O, they stung me!
The bees all stung me on the face
and all over the place (but mostly on the face).

Then I fell out -- o, I fell out!
Then I fell out on my head
and everyone said that I was dead.
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Turn Off the Eyeball
I don't want another retinal scan!
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221
When you were here I was so green. When you left I was so blue
Now you're back to watch me come unglued
There's just the three of us: just me myself and you
Still I'm outvoted two to one

Sweet sixteen came and went. It left me just a little bent
High school convinced me that there's nothing worse
Ten years later I've been caught rethinking everything I thought
And don't think that you had nothing to do with that

Remember the day you cut your foot? Broken glass was on the floor
and splinters of wood from where we forced the door
If my keys weren't locked inside I never would've opened so much more
Those keys I should’ve thrown away

Hey. Hello. Hello again. How are you?
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When My Baby Was Mine
Oh, here I go again: I’ve told this story before
And every time I convince myself I won’t have to tell it anymore
It started out as a comedy, we were laughing all the time
Everything was copasetic when my baby was mine

I know it all by heart, every chapter and verse
And every time I tell the tale, the ending gets worse and worse
It turned into a tragedy, everything was saturnine
Now all I do is think about when my baby was mine

I am no William Shakespeare -- I only read what’s written here
The Book of Love’s not small and I’m only a footnote after all

And now my story’s done, it’s time to write the last line
I never thought it would come to this when my baby was mine
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When We Were Small
This is the story of how we got so big, filled up with everything we wish we did. Can we make summer last? Oh, you know I would -- I would -- but if I can’t, I’d rather nobody could.

Tell us a story of when we were still small -- we haven’t yet memorized them all.

This is the story of where do we go from here? The path from that sunny patch was so clear, with Christmas lights strung along a chain-link fence -- we saved the bulbs but not the incandescence.

We grow into our bodies bit by bit. When we were small our hearts could not quite fit.
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Which Would You Rather Be?
Would you rather be an idiot or an asshole? Would you rather live in a ditch or a castle that's been built on the backs of those who don't know the difference, following their own tracks until they run off the cliff?

And would you rather be an idiot or an asshole? Do you honestly think that it's worth the hassle to do all the work that you know is required to sort out the jerks from the inveterate liars?

Which would you rather be? One side for you, one side for me.

Would you rather be an idiot or an asshole? Do you think debating this latest impasse'll change anyone’s mind one way or the other? Do you think that we'll find that we're all sister and brother?

I have to say I have my doubts following our falling outs. Which would you rather be? One side for you, one side for me.
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