Down To This

You get the ankles

And I get the wrists

You get the ankles

And I get the wrists

You get the ankles

And I get the wrists

You come down to this

You get the ankles

And I get the wrists

You get the ankles

And I get the wrists

You get the ankles

And I get the wrists

You come down to this

Nerves are up

And the eyes all screwy

Blood like a panful

Of boiling ratatouille

Hang from the axles of a box car

Follow the dotted line

Like a steer to Chicago

To the hooks of the Chicago man

You get the ankles

And I get the wrists

You get the ankles

And I get the wrists

You get the ankles

And I get the wrists

You come down to this

I get all tripped up

My eyes turn to water

Rug burns from a shag rug

Struck dumb in the presence

Polyester burns from a jacket

Rub the skin thin

Break down in a diner

Then I pay the bill

You get the ankles

And I get the wrists

You get the ankles

And I get the wrists

You get the ankles

And I get the wrists

You come down to this

Cashier toothpick stuck in the ground

Tiny lawnmower to mow me down

I could get lost in a lunchbox

Lie low in the mittens in the lost and found