Lyrics

I don’t care for cardiology
Just thinking about blood makes me dizzy
But I owe my heart an apology
It’s pissed at me and it’s no wonder why
And I said “Surgeon, can you fix this heart that is skewed?
If I have to type up one more email full of platitudes
I don’t think all of the defibrillators in the Royal Infirmary’s gonna save her”

I’ve been stuffing paperwork in it
Obscuring everything I have loved
And it prods me 80 times a minute
To remind me of time that I’ve squandered

And the Surgeon said
“Sure, we’ll give her heart an overhaul, gentrify the region
New residents will move in with a taste for craft gin
And she’ll forget her follies
And everything that made her feel vibrant
Everything that made her feel
Every little thing that made her”

Some day I’ll drive us out to the beach
You’ll have made a mix tape for our car
And we will have a ramp to help our senior dog out the boot