glazed weekends

(ooh-ooh-ooh) Staring at the ceiling fan spin slow

You called me up,

but I already know

We're just circles in a dusty room

Waiting for the morning sun to bloom And I

don't wanna think about tomorrow (no,

I don't) Losing time to all this borrowed sorrow

Spinning out, but you are still my anchor

Lost inside the static of our anger

Paper cups and half-spent thoughts on the floor

I don't even know what we are fighting for

Your voice is like a chord I can't resolve

Watch the bedroom chemistry dissolve

Tell me is it real or just the late night talking?

(just late night talking)

Ghostly steps upon the wooden floorboards walking

And I don't wanna think about tomorrow (no,

I don't) Losing time to all this borrowed sorrow

Spinning out, but you are still my anchor

Lost inside the static of our anger

Static of our anger...

Spinning

out... (ooh-ooh)