Superbowl Sunday

here i am, selling coffee thinking of some girl who speaks with her eyes not her mouth. shes a lock, the kind that cant open and im sorry im not the key, that you need me to be. shes got a magnet in her eyes, in the twilight she is glowing, shes got hope on my shoulders, i'll take her down. on superbowl sunday everything will be fine. 31 million, thats a lot of good times. we'll swim together in the rough seas of our minds, you pack the rod, ill bring the fishing line. shes a mess, im just a dirty rag dont ask me to bring the 409. i see a little of me in her, all the more reason for me to run away. she's sweating with tears, i think its gonna rain tonight. believe me, i know, you can run from whats inside. put some faith in yourself. the blame is over me, you did nothing wrong.