| Song | Back and Forth |
| Artist | The Dismemberment Plan |
| Album | Emergency & I |
| Download | Image LRC TXT |
| There’s a kind of music that reminds me of you | |
| It’s all clear expensive drinks and shiny shirts | |
| And the click of heels as they descend from the taxi | |
| Like the first foot on the moon, oh, and it glows with ache | |
| And if it hits me right it’s almost too much to take | |
| And it’s got right angle laser razor thin lines | |
| That curve and swerve like perfect sines | |
| As we dress to the nines in an | |
| Attempt to leave it all behind | |
| In a search of the moment between the seconds where | |
| Everything is just fine | |
| That silver thread embedded deep within our spines | |
| And I used to be kind of weird about this | |
| A fear of dependence on a guilty gilt-edged | |
| Hedged transcendence that makes us liars | |
| And tense the fear of looking down and seeing | |
| That nothing really suspends us | |
| But it was never just another | |
| Saturday night | |
| Not with you in attendance | |
| So put your hands in the air | |
| And wave them like you just don’t care | |
| It’s on a whim; it’s on a dare | |
| To shrug away what we can’t bear | |
| And we’re going back and forth | |
| And back and forth and back and forth and back | |
| We’re going back and forth | |
| And back and forth and back and forth and back | |
| So it’s a deep blue see-through membrane that protects us | |
| It connects us, a pulsing cellophane | |
| Party-train skein that helps us and | |
| Envelopes and keeps us locked inside | |
| Forever and ever along for the ride | |
| And we’re moving through a phosphorescent gel | |
| A semi-solid self-lit ocean and it’s a funny notion, isn’t it? | |
| Yeah, but | |
| I’m kinda digging it | |
| And it’s rigged and isn’t nearly so big | |
| And it speaks only of its own | |
| Perpetual near miss | |
| Like the uncertain memory | |
| Of a stranger’s mistaken kiss | |
| As faces slide by in glowing shadows | |
| Like snowbound ghosts that go up and down | |
| In epileptic shivers and negative radioactive slivers | |
| In a landscape of endless dull glitter | |
| And a taste in my mouth so sweet, yet so bitter | |
| We exhaust ourselves trying to get there | |
| Somebody scream—all right | |
| We’ll try to fill the echoless night | |
| So fasten up and hold tight | |
| We can’t give up without a fight | |
| And we’re going back and forth | |
| And back and forth and back and forth and back | |
| We’re going back and forth | |
| And back and forth and back and forth and back | |
| So in the end, whatever, we die, we dissolve | |
| Equations unbalanced, riddles unsolved | |
| And we were never connected or involved | |
| Except for the intersections and crazy mathematics | |
| With no time and no space and no schedule and no place | |
| And they pass right through us without a trace | |
| And sometimes that music drifts through my car | |
| On a spring night when anything is possible | |
| And I close my eyes and | |
| I not my head | |
| And I wonder how you been and | |
| I count to a hundred and ten | |
| Because you’ll always be my hero, even if | |
| I never see you again |
| There' s a kind of music that reminds me of you | |
| It' s all clear expensive drinks and shiny shirts | |
| And the click of heels as they descend from the taxi | |
| Like the first foot on the moon, oh, and it glows with ache | |
| And if it hits me right it' s almost too much to take | |
| And it' s got right angle laser razor thin lines | |
| That curve and swerve like perfect sines | |
| As we dress to the nines in an | |
| Attempt to leave it all behind | |
| In a search of the moment between the seconds where | |
| Everything is just fine | |
| That silver thread embedded deep within our spines | |
| And I used to be kind of weird about this | |
| A fear of dependence on a guilty giltedged | |
| Hedged transcendence that makes us liars | |
| And tense the fear of looking down and seeing | |
| That nothing really suspends us | |
| But it was never just another | |
| Saturday night | |
| Not with you in attendance | |
| So put your hands in the air | |
| And wave them like you just don' t care | |
| It' s on a whim it' s on a dare | |
| To shrug away what we can' t bear | |
| And we' re going back and forth | |
| And back and forth and back and forth and back | |
| We' re going back and forth | |
| And back and forth and back and forth and back | |
| So it' s a deep blue seethrough membrane that protects us | |
| It connects us, a pulsing cellophane | |
| Partytrain skein that helps us and | |
| Envelopes and keeps us locked inside | |
| Forever and ever along for the ride | |
| And we' re moving through a phosphorescent gel | |
| A semisolid selflit ocean and it' s a funny notion, isn' t it? | |
| Yeah, but | |
| I' m kinda digging it | |
| And it' s rigged and isn' t nearly so big | |
| And it speaks only of its own | |
| Perpetual near miss | |
| Like the uncertain memory | |
| Of a stranger' s mistaken kiss | |
| As faces slide by in glowing shadows | |
| Like snowbound ghosts that go up and down | |
| In epileptic shivers and negative radioactive slivers | |
| In a landscape of endless dull glitter | |
| And a taste in my mouth so sweet, yet so bitter | |
| We exhaust ourselves trying to get there | |
| Somebody scream all right | |
| We' ll try to fill the echoless night | |
| So fasten up and hold tight | |
| We can' t give up without a fight | |
| And we' re going back and forth | |
| And back and forth and back and forth and back | |
| We' re going back and forth | |
| And back and forth and back and forth and back | |
| So in the end, whatever, we die, we dissolve | |
| Equations unbalanced, riddles unsolved | |
| And we were never connected or involved | |
| Except for the intersections and crazy mathematics | |
| With no time and no space and no schedule and no place | |
| And they pass right through us without a trace | |
| And sometimes that music drifts through my car | |
| On a spring night when anything is possible | |
| And I close my eyes and | |
| I not my head | |
| And I wonder how you been and | |
| I count to a hundred and ten | |
| Because you' ll always be my hero, even if | |
| I never see you again |
| There' s a kind of music that reminds me of you | |
| It' s all clear expensive drinks and shiny shirts | |
| And the click of heels as they descend from the taxi | |
| Like the first foot on the moon, oh, and it glows with ache | |
| And if it hits me right it' s almost too much to take | |
| And it' s got right angle laser razor thin lines | |
| That curve and swerve like perfect sines | |
| As we dress to the nines in an | |
| Attempt to leave it all behind | |
| In a search of the moment between the seconds where | |
| Everything is just fine | |
| That silver thread embedded deep within our spines | |
| And I used to be kind of weird about this | |
| A fear of dependence on a guilty giltedged | |
| Hedged transcendence that makes us liars | |
| And tense the fear of looking down and seeing | |
| That nothing really suspends us | |
| But it was never just another | |
| Saturday night | |
| Not with you in attendance | |
| So put your hands in the air | |
| And wave them like you just don' t care | |
| It' s on a whim it' s on a dare | |
| To shrug away what we can' t bear | |
| And we' re going back and forth | |
| And back and forth and back and forth and back | |
| We' re going back and forth | |
| And back and forth and back and forth and back | |
| So it' s a deep blue seethrough membrane that protects us | |
| It connects us, a pulsing cellophane | |
| Partytrain skein that helps us and | |
| Envelopes and keeps us locked inside | |
| Forever and ever along for the ride | |
| And we' re moving through a phosphorescent gel | |
| A semisolid selflit ocean and it' s a funny notion, isn' t it? | |
| Yeah, but | |
| I' m kinda digging it | |
| And it' s rigged and isn' t nearly so big | |
| And it speaks only of its own | |
| Perpetual near miss | |
| Like the uncertain memory | |
| Of a stranger' s mistaken kiss | |
| As faces slide by in glowing shadows | |
| Like snowbound ghosts that go up and down | |
| In epileptic shivers and negative radioactive slivers | |
| In a landscape of endless dull glitter | |
| And a taste in my mouth so sweet, yet so bitter | |
| We exhaust ourselves trying to get there | |
| Somebody scream all right | |
| We' ll try to fill the echoless night | |
| So fasten up and hold tight | |
| We can' t give up without a fight | |
| And we' re going back and forth | |
| And back and forth and back and forth and back | |
| We' re going back and forth | |
| And back and forth and back and forth and back | |
| So in the end, whatever, we die, we dissolve | |
| Equations unbalanced, riddles unsolved | |
| And we were never connected or involved | |
| Except for the intersections and crazy mathematics | |
| With no time and no space and no schedule and no place | |
| And they pass right through us without a trace | |
| And sometimes that music drifts through my car | |
| On a spring night when anything is possible | |
| And I close my eyes and | |
| I not my head | |
| And I wonder how you been and | |
| I count to a hundred and ten | |
| Because you' ll always be my hero, even if | |
| I never see you again |