You smell like burning luggage, lighting fires on the hillsides, you remind me of Alaska and other places I've been to, but I've been swimming in the noises of all these other people, trying to hold it all together and pretend like everything's like normal
But, I'm down, what do you want from me?
Don't you know what counts?
You sound like falling airplanes and you scream at me to watch you, as you fall through stained-gla** windows into other peoples houses, but my knees are weak, my knees are weak
Well you smell of burning laundries, like fires on the hill side. You remind me of Alaska and all the places I've been to. But my knees are weak, but my knees are weak
And I'm down, what do you want from me?
Don't you know what counts?