All the girls and all my friends and all the kids I know- they pray out loud every day and still have nothing to say. They still have nothing to say
It's 98, it's 99. I've got some. I've got mine. I'll still love you in 1999. Hold it. Now we're downtown at the show and we've got no place to go. Won
I used to know this boredom-potential asleep. I can't feel the rain until it cuts across my cheek. But I must get paid. I've got to get that check. Let
So many years, so many fears. That much time spent standing in line for a window view that I think I can use, but don't cut in line when you're way on
She likes my amplifier loud. What goes in must come out. Turn it up. Turn it up. You can hear it downtown on the bus, on the radio. So relaxed she's
call mine. Time is only information, a sort of sill from which I see you all the time. Say someting stupid, like 'it's ok'. What you say in place of real insight
Imagine yourself young, with pockets full of water. You haven't learned to hesitate yet. And the sun beats down all on your skinny neck, as we kick around
(Instrumental)
'It's all a part of winter,' she said. 'That's just the way it is. Sometimes you stay inside. Here comes my ride,' she said. On the table, or on the
