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)