Song parody of
Flat Black Sea
by Lemon Pitch
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A shot so high and wild that you'll wince before you miss
A cracking glass of motor oil, a trembling neon mess
Permission for the outlane taken once but measured twice
You'll find yourself embarrassed there and struggling toward the light
Flat black sea
Navigated by the lights from the cell phone towers
Desert of lost keys
Dry heat negating all your planning for the daytime hours
Brilliant lungs for running but no willingness to race
Facility for misdirection, overstate your case
A special kind of uselessness, these critics that you make
A sagging fortress standing on thawed out frozen lake
Flat black sea
Navigated by the lights from the cell phone towers
Desert of lost keys
Dry heat negating all your planning for the daytime hours
It's turning out to be a problem
A shot so high and wild that you'll never see it hit
A trembling target in the wind, a misremembered bit
Your famous barren branches now the orchard has been burned
You never liked the fruit there but you always had returned
Flat black sea
Navigated by the lights from the cell phone towers
Desert of lost keys
Dry heat negating all your planning for the daytime hours
It's turning out to be a problem
It's turning out to be a problem
It's turning out to be a problem
It's turning out to be a problem
A shot so high and wild that you'll wince before you miss
A cracking glass of motor oil, a trembling neon mess
Permission for the outlane taken once but measured twice
You'll find yourself embarrassed there and struggling toward the light
Flat black sea
Navigated by the lights from the cell phone towers
Desert of lost keys
Dry heat negating all your planning for the daytime hours
Brilliant lungs for running but no willingness to race
Facility for misdirection, overstate your case
A special kind of uselessness, these critics that you make
A sagging fortress standing on thawed out frozen lake
Flat black sea
Navigated by the lights from the cell phone towers
Desert of lost keys
Dry heat negating all your planning for the daytime hours
It's turning out to be a problem
A shot so high and wild that you'll never see it hit
A trembling target in the wind, a misremembered bit
Your famous barren branches now the orchard has been burned
You never liked the fruit there but you always had returned
Flat black sea
Navigated by the lights from the cell phone towers
Desert of lost keys
Dry heat negating all your planning for the daytime hours
It's turning out to be a problem
It's turning out to be a problem
It's turning out to be a problem
It's turning out to be a problem
