Grace Cathedral hill
|
All wrapped in bones of setting sun
|
All dust and stone and moribund
|
I paid twenty-five cents to light
|
A little white candle
|
For a New Year's Day
|
I sat and watched it burn away
|
Then turned and weaved
|
Through slow decay
|
We were both a little hungry
|
So we went to get hot dog
|
|
Down to Hyde Street Pier
|
The light was slight and disappeared
|
The air it stunk of fish and beer
|
We heard a Superman trumpet
|
Play the national anthem
|
|
And the world may be long for you
|
But'll never belong to you
|
But on a motorbike
|
When all the city lights
|
Blind your eyes tonight
|
Are you feeling better now?
|
|
Some way to greet the year:
|
Your eyes all bright and
|
Brim with tears
|
The pilgrims, pills, and tourists here
|
Will sink fifty-three bucks to buy
|
A brand new halo
|
|
Sweet on a green-eyed girl
|
All fiery Irish clip and curl
|
All brine and piss and vinegar
|
I paid twenty-five cents to light
|
A little white candle
|
|
And the world may be long for you
|
But'll never belong to you
|
But on a motorbike
|
When all the city lights
|
Blind your eyes tonight
|
Are you feeling better now?
|
|
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|
Grace Cathedral Hill
|
| The Decemberists |
