the commentary is traveling for younnwith the color analyst who kept me looking through.nnwith a cocktail drawl, i am a sinkernnand a pump fake mouth you were a reachernnnnuh oh, uh oh, this trophy is for hire.nnand uh oh, uh oh, these nights are tired of trying.nnnnwe're living on borrowed nightsnnthese lakes are not oceans,nntrees are not forestsnnand you're renting wanderers to dance in tinted windows, nnuse our feet for us.