I own the lost & found
He owns the airport
I own the airwaves
and all the spaces
Inside my cardboard box,
there are pieces that don’t belong

I own the lost & found.
She owns the sellers of the parts
I have a cardboard box
She has the pieces

Between the buildings
You call those spaces
Dig up the concrete
Put in a building again
But if we don’t want it
They’ll build it up faster for sure
Because you call them spaces
And they call them places you don’t belong

I own the lost & found
He owns the sellers of the parts
I have a cardboard box
He has the pieces

I saw a girl today
her pretty face was real low
Behind her silence,
there was violence for sure
She’s got a space
some broken parts
She told me to go away
and put her hand against my sweater

I own the lost & found
He owns the sellers of the parts
I have a cardboard box
He has the pieces

I know a neighborhood
A man there was shot up good
Blood in their sidewalk
Blood on their windowpanes
He had a child
A blue-eyed boy
But someone was angry
Someone was sad enough to kill

I own the lost & found
She owns the sellers of the parts
I have a cardboard box
She has the pieces

Driving a dirt road
You see a haystack in the bend
Get out of the car seat
Run in the hay field
But you see their lover
And they think you love her to death
Get back in the car
And drive until you forget that face

I own the lost & found
She owns the airport
He owns the milkweed
She owns the monarch butterfly
But I own the whole damn field