When the sky was the color of cream, And you started leaving messages on my answering machine Telling me that you were way across town and Would be home in a night or two. I started keeping track of my losses. There were only one or two i couldn't cover. And up there against the milk while sky i saw Fleeting vestiges of you. The way you vanished gradually Has made a bitter man of me. And the way you vanished gradually, Has made a bitter man of me. Well, the ocean cleaves the rocks real clean. I dropped my answering machine. I watched the waves chew it into tiny little pieces of seafoam hissing in the air. In the balance sheet i'd been keeping in my mind I entered two hundred kroners to the left of the debit line. It was what the machine had cost me. It was a greater loss than i could bear. I hear the wheels and knobs whirring down to this very day, Long after the ocean has washed it all away. I heard the train go by last night. And it's a slow train outta here, alright. But the way you disappeared in slow degrees, Has made a very patient man of me. Yeah