The Raconteurs

Can we call it a day?
Now would that be OK?
Can we just go our own separate ways? (ways)
'Cos I'm cold and wet
And I'm willing to bet
That you constructed this maze (maze)
I stumble around
Try to follow the sound
Then something takes hold of my hand (my hand)
If we cause such a mess
And I'd venture to guess
That you concocted this plan (plan)
I don't know what to do
'Cos it's always been you
Who helps me to make up my mind (my mind)
But I stake my life
And swear by this knife
That it's all by your design (design)
Enough has been said
It goes 'round in my head
Until I break down and cry (and cry)