It's the third week in a row
It's cold outside and I've got
Nowhere to go
And I've been
Drifting for some time
My eyes are half closed
Scrolling through some Netflix titles
Gray-scaled on my phone
And while I'm
Half asleep I'm checkin'
To see if my two locks are set in
To the holes cut out in the door frame
And I'm on my back and on my side
As they're writing letters to the FBI
And we're all just a couple bad decisions away
It's minus twenty outside
I've got a big bottle of some cheap red wine
And I'm watching documentaries on true crime
And I think I might not move the whole weekend
I'm looking up writings from the Unabomber
As my phone's blowing up with all these unknown callers
Who say I've won the big door prize
Cardboard boxes on my floor
With long receipts curled up from the Bucktown corner store
And I can't hide my clothes
They're climbing out of my drawers
Piling high in record time
To compromise what they were made for
And half asleep I'm checkin'
To see if my two locks are set in
To the holes cut out in the door frame
And I'm on my back and on my side
As they're writing letters to the FBI
And we're all just a couple bad decisions away
It's minus twenty outside
I've got a big bottle of some cheap red wine
And I'm watching documentaries on true crime
And I think I might not move the whole weekend
I'm looking up writings from the Unabomber
As my phone's blowing up with all these unknown callers
Who say I've won the big door prize
In spite of ourselves we're the big door prize