Tuna in a can, sticky from the brine
I thought I’d gone bad, you thought I was fine
And he came down the stairs
Remember what he said, “Heavy is the head
Happy is the fool, you’re insecure
Lost in your mother’s, lost in your daddy’s shoes
This dim-lit living room feels like the pocket of your brother’s suit”
And it all comes back around
I know that I’ve not really tried
And it all comes back somehow
I know that I’ve not really tried
Tuna in a can, why’re you so sad?
You’re headlinin’ the show at the funeral
They walk into the room, a priest and his platoon
I think about the end
I think that I’m the fool that’s insecure
Lost in my mother’s, lost in my daddy’s shoes
And it all comes back around
I know that I’ve not really tried
And it all comes back somehow
I know that I’ve not really tried
And it all comes back around
I know that I’ve not really tried
And it all comes back somehow
I know that I’ve not really tried
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