I'll take the best of your bad moods and dress them up to make a better you,
'cause all the company calls amount to one paycheck.
I'd squeeze a heart through my fingertip but I type too slow to make expressions stick.
And it's like tv with a microchip.
Set your sights to sink the partyline, 'cause it's so tired.
Set your sights! Destroy this mock-shrine, 'cause it's so tired.
Let's cut our losses at both ends and aim your car away from all our friends,
Leaving the dishes stacked in the sink.
I'd keep a distance 'cause the complications cloud it all,
And mail a postcard sending grettings from the eastern bloc.
Synapse to synapse... Possoibilities will thin or fade.
Your wedding figurines... I'd melt so I could drink them in.
Lyrics taken from http://www.lyricsmode.com/lyrics/d/death_cab_for_cutie/company_calls.html