Paul Gonzenbach - Being Clever | Текст песни

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• Paul Gonzenbach
• Being Clever

A muffled bang from deep inside your dad's car as you hit the curb at high speed outside the bar. My jaw slams shut, pain that you can smell. My flimsy head ringing like a bell. Jumping out, don't bother to take the keys out of the ignition. Rushing in, you blow past the distracted doorman. You know that it's so childish, so unbecoming of your age. Where has all your good judgement gone tonight?

Driving up behind us is the patrol car they called on you. So protect these thy smallest in so far as we can.

In your haste you couldn't think of a reasonable way to ask the question, so you blurt out, "What's his name?" Probably calling, calling for backup in the worst way. I join the gathering group of onlookers in my own way.

The ambulance is on its way in a heartbeat of confusion. It dawns on you a moment too late that you're wearing white. That won't come out maybe ever, like all the words you exchanged forever seared in your mind. Being clever, a three-word suggestion for the one down on his side waiting for backup in his mind.

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