Pickpocket At the Drive-In

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[Verse 1: Cedric Bixler-Zavala]
In the humble stench of nativity
Hummed the smell of television snow
A faint S.O.S. flickering
Riding on the coattails of your ground zero

[Chorus 1: Cedric Bixler-Zavala, with Jim Ward]
Neighborhood footprints ingrown
The daylight savings time will never know
Of this alabaster cold
Of this alabaster

[Verse 2: Cedric Bixler-Zavala]
Your lovers quarrel ended up in a crawlspace
Dental identities will tell us apart
Teeth marked and bounded with sighs
"Step into my parlor," said the spider to the fly

[Chorus 2: Cedric Bixler-Zavala, with Jim Ward]
Stable hoofed footprints ingrown
Cloak and dagger muzak blared in ohms
Of this alabaster cold
Of this alabaster cold
Of this alabaster cold

[Bridge]
Ingrown! Ingrown!
Ingrown! Ingrown!
More caliber per capita
Ingrown! Ingrown!
More caliber per capita
Ingrown! Ingrown!
More caliber per capita
More, more, more caliber per capita
More, more caliber per capita
More caliber per capita