ugh
Don't you remember the last time we were speeding down this highway?
Anna slept in the back seat, dreaming in the autumn heat.
We turned up the country radio.
I said, "if you want me just say so."
I slicked back my hair in the wind.
I told you I didn't want my picture taken but you snapped it anyway.
Now I guess you won't have trouble remembering me someday.
So I floored it and swerved around the lanes.
I kept wishing it were you instead of me behind the wheel so maybe with my camera I could steal a shot of you and go home to put it in my room.
Maybe you'll never remember me.
Maybe my face will lose these scars, 'cause sometimes they keep me home at night where I duck under the covers and wince when I see the light.
------
The sky grows bigger every day
And the other week I hopped on a train
Cutting through state lines
To come to you as the crow flies
And out there in there offing everything was melon and orange
Did you know, my sweet
That I once took the liberty of watching you in your sleep?
I rolled over and over
Trying to touch your knees underneath the sheets
I just want you to know
that every pool of water reminds me of you
Is that all right?
I hope you think it's cool
'Cause sometimes a train can't go as fast as I want it to
Everything seemed a little easier
when we weren't one hundred miles apart
The person across from me
sitting in her train seat, reminded me of you
And I looked out past her cheeks
through the glass-light conduit
But the sun had sunk already
Disappeared into New Jersey
Oh, why don't they have phones on these things?
------
If it makes you less sad, I will die by your hand.
I hope you find out what you want.
I already know what I am.
And if it makes you less sad, we'll start talking again.
And you can tell me how vile I already know that I am.
I'll grow old and start acting my age.
I'll be a brand new day in a life that you hate.
A crown of gold and a heart that's harder than stone.
And it hurts a whole lot, but it's missed when it's gone.
Call me a safe bet. But I'm betting I'm not.
I'm glad that you can forgive, I'm only hoping as time goes you can forget.
If it makes you less sad, I'll move out of the state.
You can keep to yourself, I'll keep out of your way.
And if it makes you less sad, I'll take your pictures all down.
Every picture you paint, I will paint myself out.
It's cold as a tomb, and it's dark in your room, when I sneak to your bed to pour salt in your wounds.
So call it quits, or get a grip.
You say you wanted a solution, but you just wanted to be missed.
Call me a safe bet. But I'm betting I'm not.
I'm glad that you can forgive, I'm only hoping as time goes you can forget.
You are calm and reposed.
It lets your beauty unfold.
Pale white like the skin stretched over your bones.
Spring keeps you ever close.
You are second hand smoke.
You are so fragile and thin.
Standing trial for your sins.
Holding onto yourself the best you can.
Before rain, you are the blood in my veins.
------
We sent out the S.O.S. call.
It was a quarter past four in the morning when the storm broke our second anchor line.
Four months at sea.
Four months of calm seas only to be pounded in the shallows off the tip of Montauk Point.
They call them rogues.
They travel fast and alone.
One hundred foot faces of God's good ocean gone wrong.
What they call love is a risk, 'cause you will always get hit out of nowhere by some wave and end up on your own.
The hole in the hull defied the crews attempts to bail us out.
And flooded the engines and radio and half buried bow.
Your tongue is a rudder.
It steers the whole ship.
Sends your words past your lips or keeps them safe behind your teeth.
But the wrong words will strand you.
Come off course while you sleep.
Sweep your boat out to sea or dashed to bits on the reef.
The vessel growns, the ocean pressures its frame.
Off the port I see the lighthouse through the sleet and the rain.
And I wish for one more day to give my love and repay debts.
But the morning finds our bodies washed up thirty miles west.
They say that the captain stays fast with the ship through still and storm.
But this ain't the Dakota, and the water is cold.
We won't have to fight for long.
This is the end.
This story's old but it goes on and on until we disappear.
Calm me and let me taste the salt you breathed while you were underneath.
I am the one who haunts your dreams of mountains sunk below the sea.
I spoke the words but never gave a thought to what they all could mean.
I know that this is what you want.
A funeral keeps up both apart.
You know that you are not alone.
Need you like water in my lungs.
This is the end.
------
ahh, nothing's better than a little brand new and saves the day on a day/night like tonight.
Anna slept in the back seat, dreaming in the autumn heat.
We turned up the country radio.
I said, "if you want me just say so."
I slicked back my hair in the wind.
I told you I didn't want my picture taken but you snapped it anyway.
Now I guess you won't have trouble remembering me someday.
So I floored it and swerved around the lanes.
I kept wishing it were you instead of me behind the wheel so maybe with my camera I could steal a shot of you and go home to put it in my room.
Maybe you'll never remember me.
Maybe my face will lose these scars, 'cause sometimes they keep me home at night where I duck under the covers and wince when I see the light.
------
The sky grows bigger every day
And the other week I hopped on a train
Cutting through state lines
To come to you as the crow flies
And out there in there offing everything was melon and orange
Did you know, my sweet
That I once took the liberty of watching you in your sleep?
I rolled over and over
Trying to touch your knees underneath the sheets
I just want you to know
that every pool of water reminds me of you
Is that all right?
I hope you think it's cool
'Cause sometimes a train can't go as fast as I want it to
Everything seemed a little easier
when we weren't one hundred miles apart
The person across from me
sitting in her train seat, reminded me of you
And I looked out past her cheeks
through the glass-light conduit
But the sun had sunk already
Disappeared into New Jersey
Oh, why don't they have phones on these things?
------
If it makes you less sad, I will die by your hand.
I hope you find out what you want.
I already know what I am.
And if it makes you less sad, we'll start talking again.
And you can tell me how vile I already know that I am.
I'll grow old and start acting my age.
I'll be a brand new day in a life that you hate.
A crown of gold and a heart that's harder than stone.
And it hurts a whole lot, but it's missed when it's gone.
Call me a safe bet. But I'm betting I'm not.
I'm glad that you can forgive, I'm only hoping as time goes you can forget.
If it makes you less sad, I'll move out of the state.
You can keep to yourself, I'll keep out of your way.
And if it makes you less sad, I'll take your pictures all down.
Every picture you paint, I will paint myself out.
It's cold as a tomb, and it's dark in your room, when I sneak to your bed to pour salt in your wounds.
So call it quits, or get a grip.
You say you wanted a solution, but you just wanted to be missed.
Call me a safe bet. But I'm betting I'm not.
I'm glad that you can forgive, I'm only hoping as time goes you can forget.
You are calm and reposed.
It lets your beauty unfold.
Pale white like the skin stretched over your bones.
Spring keeps you ever close.
You are second hand smoke.
You are so fragile and thin.
Standing trial for your sins.
Holding onto yourself the best you can.
Before rain, you are the blood in my veins.
------
We sent out the S.O.S. call.
It was a quarter past four in the morning when the storm broke our second anchor line.
Four months at sea.
Four months of calm seas only to be pounded in the shallows off the tip of Montauk Point.
They call them rogues.
They travel fast and alone.
One hundred foot faces of God's good ocean gone wrong.
What they call love is a risk, 'cause you will always get hit out of nowhere by some wave and end up on your own.
The hole in the hull defied the crews attempts to bail us out.
And flooded the engines and radio and half buried bow.
Your tongue is a rudder.
It steers the whole ship.
Sends your words past your lips or keeps them safe behind your teeth.
But the wrong words will strand you.
Come off course while you sleep.
Sweep your boat out to sea or dashed to bits on the reef.
The vessel growns, the ocean pressures its frame.
Off the port I see the lighthouse through the sleet and the rain.
And I wish for one more day to give my love and repay debts.
But the morning finds our bodies washed up thirty miles west.
They say that the captain stays fast with the ship through still and storm.
But this ain't the Dakota, and the water is cold.
We won't have to fight for long.
This is the end.
This story's old but it goes on and on until we disappear.
Calm me and let me taste the salt you breathed while you were underneath.
I am the one who haunts your dreams of mountains sunk below the sea.
I spoke the words but never gave a thought to what they all could mean.
I know that this is what you want.
A funeral keeps up both apart.
You know that you are not alone.
Need you like water in my lungs.
This is the end.
------
ahh, nothing's better than a little brand new and saves the day on a day/night like tonight.