What gives this mess some grace   Unless it's kicks, man   Unless it's fiction   Unless it's sweat or it's songs      What hits against this chest   Unless it's a sick man's hand   From some mid-level band   He's been driving too long      On a dark windless night   With the stereo on   With the towns flying by   And the ground getting soft      And the sound in the sky   Coming down from above   It surrounds you at times   And it's whispering, oh      What pulls your body down   That is quicksand   So we climb out quick, hand over hand   For your mouth's all filled up      What picks you up from down   Unless it's tricks, man   When I been fixed, I am convinced   That I will not get so broke up again      And on a seven day high   That heavenly song   Punches right through my mind   And pumps through my blood      And I know it's a lie   But I still give my love   And my heart's all alive   For your hands to pluck off, oh      What gives this mess some grace   Unless it's fictions   Unless it's licks, man   Unless it's lies or it's love      What breaks this heart the most   Is the ghost of some rock 'n' roll fan   Exploding up from the stands   With her heart opened up      And I wanna tell her, your love isn't lost   Say, my heart is still crossed   Scream, you're so wonderful   What a dream in the dark      About working so hard   About growing so stoned   Trying not to turn up   Trying not to believe in the light on your own   La, la, la, la, oh, oh, oh, oh