[Verse 1]
Right side of the heart, a quiet engine in the dark,
Gathers up the blood that's tired, dim and stark,
Not the shade of cherries, more a dusky wine,
Low on oxygen, running short on shine.
It doesn't send this cargo out to feed the toes or brain,
Ships it straight to lungland through a pulmonary lane,
No delivery route, no organ waiting on the dock,
Just a pit stop built to reset the clock.
[Chorus]
Drop the carbon, pick up air,
Lungs are the one stop refueling there,
Right side pumps it, low and toned down,
Comes back scarlet, wearing its crown,
Not delivering, just filling the tank,
Hale and whole when it leaves the bank,
Drop it, breathe it, send it around,
That's the only stop where fuel is found.
[Verse 2]
Picture alveoli, tiny grape-like sacs,
Blood pulls up beside them, running gaseous swaps,
Carbon dioxide, the waste it's carried far,
Slips out through the tissue like it opened up a jar,
Efflux is the word for gas that flows on out,
Fresh oxygen rushes in without a single doubt,
The blood was dull and weary, now it's crisp and new,
Ready for the left side to send it out to you.
[Chorus]
Drop the carbon, pick up air,
Lungs are the one stop refueling there,
Right side pumps it, low and toned down,
Comes back scarlet, wearing its crown,
Not delivering, just filling the tank,
Hale and whole when it leaves the bank,
Drop it, breathe it, send it around,
That's the only stop where fuel is found.
[Verse 3]
Every other station in this circulatory ring
Drops off oxygen and nutrients, does its offering,
Brain gets its glucose, muscle gets its due,
But lungs don't want packages, lungs want an exchange to do.
They're not a delivery, they're the refill crew,
Trading something stale for something fragrant, dark for something new,
Remember this exception when you trace the loop around,
Lungs refuel the traveler, no delivery to be found.
[Bridge]
Breathe in, oxygen slips across the wall,
Breathe out, carbon dioxide answers the call,
Right side's the courier, lungs the filling station,
One stop for refueling, not for delivery's occupation,
Every drop of blood makes this small detour,
Comes out lighter, brighter, ready and sure.
[Chorus]
Drop the carbon, pick up air,
Lungs are the one stop refueling there,
Right side pumps it, low and toned down,
Comes back scarlet, wearing its crown,
Not delivering, just filling the tank,
Hale and whole when it leaves the bank.
[Outro]
Right side ships it, lungs refresh it,
Oxygen loaded, the trip resumes,
Drop the carbon, pick up the crew,
That's the loop's small refueling room.