Dog Years

If you could do anything
You would ruin the best things
You would spoil the ending
You'd dissolve cotton candy

There you are in the rearview
Faking landings on the moon
Here we are in the driveway, I'm
Deciding which tree to run us into

Oh, no, you scratched until I bled
I hope you choke on your own spit in your own bed

'Cause I know
I know how it ends
We're not gonna be friends
In dog years, you're dead

If you could be anything
You would be the worst thing
A dry patch when you're sledding
And waking up with my lip bleeding

Here we are in the driveway
Deciding I have more to lose
But you should go home to Chicago
And take a long walk off the Navy Pier

Oh, no, you scratched until I bled
I hope you choke on your own spit in your own bed

'Cause I know
I know where it ends
We're not gonna be friends
In dog years, you're dead (dead)

(You're dead)
(You're dead)
(You're dead)