Normal, IL

I'm covered in marks, bites, ticks, scars, stains, torn up fabric My pockets are full of receipts and wrappers And remnants of things that I still have to deal with Would it be okay if I recorded the sound of you Throwing our shit around downstairs Would it be okay to smash a dish if I beg forgiveness immediately Would it be okay to wander off I'll take the shitty car, I'll leave the credit cards Drive to the Midwest, sleeping at rest stops Play jazz on the sidewalks For gas money We could move to Normal Illinois Would it be okay if I gave up Move into a bunker underground Hunker down with canned goods and musty blankets After a week or two we would know what to do We would have to try again Pin up your hair, bundle the papers Make a bag of shoes and frozen tobacco We can't sublet this Who would respond to the ad Who would fix the porch Who would find the drawer of cushions We need the cushions now Maybe we need to move to Normal Illinois Cancel the plans, we'll drive to the city I'll feed the meter, you order paninis Tell 'em no lettuce I'll turn the radio off when it starts to upset us I'll just listen to you Nothing to think through We'll drive slow I never sent the text you told me to send I found a figurine That reminded me of myself A soldier on a surfboard It only can move when the surface is smooth All the same feelings are coming around again Raining down again Seeping into the bag of shoes again We could move again to Normal, Illinois