Through the war and the soft spring rustle
|
Streets are selling some summer hustle
|
Across the Maple Street Bridge, in a bristling fog
|
Just whistling on is a bowl of prattle
|
Just a high snowball on a curb in the fall
|
Through the parking lot at Christmas
|
I heard a whisper, I heard him call
|
He was where the chest was
|
Only way our lives open wide and have a shade
|
That this is to say
|
If you're on a ferry, freezing time for a while
|
Throw the waste, that's where the spirit left
|
Underneath the house, stuck the frame out here
|
Smells like sweat and gasoline
|
And when you get hard and your eyes get mean
|
'Cause you're on the march but I could almost kiss you
|
Don't let them swish you, you have this song, you can take it with you
|
Stay lonely, open wide as a fire, a flame
|
Don't be ashamed
|
Loose a little, lied eyes while our lives fade to gray'
|
Did the silence drop? Did your Walkman stop?
|
Did the edge turn cold 'cause the message was so close?
|
Oh, did you chock it? Oh, can I know?
|
I know where this is going because we always blow it
|
Only way our lives open wide and have a shade, it's just that way
|
Flow down that rive, freezing time, fully wide, just throw the waste
|
That's where the spirit waste
|
Only way our lives, your eyes on fire, mind your flame
|
We won't be dismayed
|
When the sun is out and you're screaming by
|
I swear that if I had my way
|
You know I would've blessed it
|
|
-----------------
|
Where the Spirit Left Us
|
| Okkervil River |
