We're the fugitives, of American portions Caught on the sleeves, of yesterday's concoct From the fresh cut grass, out on the interstate Where the wheels keep on rolling, till we've sealed our fate Tinsel and cinder, still's gonna give you up So here's a guitar, that you used to strum You never got very far, you could still sing along The oblique pastiche, of childhood memories It's got you down on your knees, you know you can't escape these things Tinsel and cinder, still's gonna give you up It's not who you are, it's just what you've become Guitar Solo Skies folding once, we've been gone for days Feeling alone at home, we're not this far away Flip the cassette, a mixtape you made Light up a joint, let our souls catch some rays Tinsel and cinder, still's gonna give you up It's not who you are, it's just what you've become Tinsel and sawdust, tinsel and sawdust Tinsel and sawdust Tinsel and sawdust Tinsel and sawdust Tinsel and sawdust Tinsel and sawdust