Getting over the worst shit every time, you will
Private property, Friday night in August when it's hotter than hell
The kids, they were babbling just like his
The name of my accompanying friend
Is not important at all
But no, I never met or even seen him before
Oh

And hey you
He's looking for you now
He's in the front seat, talking down
While I'm searching for these clothes
Let's leave 'em nervous because
The church service in the atrium

When the lights turn off, lights turn on
(Lights turn off, lights turn on)
There's a security guard, security guard
Cars
Oh (lights turn on, lights turn on)
(Security guard)

I swept up all the charcoal dust for fingerprints
And maybe under the wrong impression
Sir, we have the things that they want
All the items you bought
And what you want in a home
Two detectives on the patio

Hey, can the lights turn off, lights turn on
(Lights turn off, lights turn on)
A bunch of cops in the yard, cars on the run
(Cops in the yard)
I saw the lights turn off, lights turn on
(Lights turn off, lights turn on)
Too many cops in the yard, cars on the run
(Cops in the yard, cars on the run)
Cars

(I saw the lights turn off, lights turn on)
(Cops in the yard)

Look every time with small talk
Swim over the sharp cone
Think that I could be making this shit up
It's not like me at all, but not impossible

Lights turn on, lights turn off, lights turn on
Lights turn on, lights turn off, lights turn on
Lights turn on, lights turn off, lights turn on
Lights turn on, lights turn off, lights turn on

Copyright: Kobalt Music Publishing Ltd.
Writer(s): Benjamin Bridwell