The Kusatsu Bridges are Conspiring to Divide Us

I’ve got 25 bridges outside my door
and not one can get me closer to you
curled-up in the corner
with my hands on my head
squeezin’ ‘til the bloods run out,

phone me up to say there’s something in the water
but you drank a gallon anyway,
curled-up in the corner
with both hands on your stomach
heavin’ all your bile out,

(and we’re) off to the hospital again,
checking in for a monthly stay,
but even here is poison,
(change up timing, slow words down)
stonewalling you in my silence
while you’re calling me to the rescue,
but it's June and the summer hail’s chasing me away,

the sirens in the distance weren’t such a surprise
I could hear ‘em 10 miles away,
but with your thumbs in your ears
and your tongue in the air
you built a new dam everyday

cause even if you here now you wasn’t then
love a tightrope without a net
and no smile at the other end

the life you take will be your own
to leave by the road or carry home
what to make of her frustrating mystery
that’s my responsibility

love her with a pure heart
love her with a clean heart
the love you give will be your own
the life you take
well that’s my responsibility