(All’s Well That Ends) In Medias Res Los Campesinos!

[Verse 1: Gareth]
But let's talk about you for a minute with the vomit in your gullet
From a half-bottle of vodka that we'd stolen from the Optic
On the back seat in your car because it wasn't safe to start it
You were "far too fucked to drive"
Were the words that you imparted
And the woollen dress that clung so tight
To the contours of your body
And the dead grass stuck to fibres from us rolling in the lay-by
Were passed to dog-haired blankets
That protected the bench seat covers
And a crucifix was hung from rear-view mirror by your mother

[Verse 2: Gareth]
I'm leaving my body to science, and not medical, but physics
Drag my corpse through the airport
And lay me limp on the left wing
Drop me at the highest point
And trace a line around the dent I leave in the ground
That'll be the initial of the one you'll marry now I'm not around
I flew for seven hours, the sky didn't once turn black

[Bridge: Gareth, Los Campesinos!]
You know I’d sooner go down in a ball of flames
Than I would lay here and be bored to death
All’s well that ends