D     Bm      G          
Can I lift my dress up for you?
Can I lift it in the night?
White undersides of my thighs look much better
In the dark light

D         G
There’s a kid in there
And he’s big, and dumb,
And he’s… kinda scared
Well, he’s too old to be there
And he’s just looking for a ride.

D Bm G

D     Em   G         D
I’ll lift it to the ceiling tiles
Of stadiums and shrines
If you see something to cheer about
Then I’ll tell you that it’s mine.
You see something to reach about
I’ll tell you that it’s mine
I’m sorry that your mother died
That one was my fault
I’m sorry anybody dies at all these days

D Bm G
Oh I see the night
With my own two eyes.