(Achoo. Branca-fest.)
I can't see anything at all, all I see is me
That's clear enough, that's what's important
To see me
My eyes can focus, my brain is talking
It looks pretty good to me
My head's on straight, my girlfriend's beautiful
It looks pretty good to me
Sometimes I speak, tonight there's nothing to say
Sometimes we freak and laugh all day
Hold these pages up to the light
See the jackknife inside of the dream
A railroad runs through the record stores at night
Coming in for the deep freeze
(Mary) A simple word
Are you there in the cold country?
Your eyes so full, your head so tight
Can't you hear me?
Remember our talk, that day on the phone?
I said I was the door, and you were the station
With shattered gla** and miles between us
We still flew away in the conversation
My cup is full and I feel okay
The world is dull, but not today
She thinks she's a goddess
She says she'll talk to the spirits
I wonder if she can talk to herself
If she can bear to hear it
This is Eric's trip
We've all come to watch him slip
He's slipping all the way to Texas
Can you dig it?
I see with a gla** eye, the pavement view
A shadow forming, across fields rushing
From me to you
We tore down the world, we put up four walls
I breathe in the myth
I'm over the city, f**ing the future
I'm high and inside your kiss
We can't see clear
But what we see is alright
We make up what we can't hear
Then we sing all night
Scattered pages and shattered lights
See the jackknife, see the dream
There's something moving over there to the right
Like nothing I've ever seen