It's Not That

You're always under my skin
How do you live in it?
Trapped under summer sweat
While I've been chasing gold teeth at funerals
And drinking down the poison through cans and funnels

I'd do anything for you
Cut off my arm if you asked me to
Die alone if it helps you through the year
I'm not complaining
It's not that
I'm just saying
I'm not complaining

I guess that I'll stay in the car
I guess I'll breathe in the exhaust
Until the awkward silence is over

And I'll just say: Hey
It never mattered anyway