Maps & Atlases - Stories About Ourselves lyrics

Blue Christmas lights tell us stories about ourselves I saw you biting yours nails through a pane of gla** in that restaurant late night conversations when you told me there were no stars just satellites And I lay down in the shirt you used as a towel when there were none left and that the stars were a felt blanket draped over tabletops of a smoke seeping factory (?) gestures Bent puzzle pieces we are small cities tall buildings this gla** flipper is giving me blisters now I'd prefer not