And so I left when I was just a boy.
|
I swore I'd simply do it all over again.
|
And now up the hill with snow-bit,
|
Blue-tipped fingers, blood from falling,
|
But I can't go back there no more
|
|
In frozen poses, venues lined with pillows,
|
Atlas shouldered some silly blunder or other
|
You ask for more than this,
|
But I don't know what more than this is.
|
Is it a motel,
|
With a fashion magazine,
|
In between towns?
|
I was thinking about my mother
|
And I wished I'll upon myself.
|
|
Rachel don't come around here no more.
|
I hear she's living in Montana
|
With her brother. I wish her the best,
|
And I hope she can forget me.
|
|
But the ghost that comes around
|
Is a dead-ringer for her.
|
I see her in my nightmares,
|
Discussing modern literature
|
With her hands around my neck
|
|
In a motel
|
With a fashion magazine
|
In between towns.
|
I was thinking about my mother
|
And I wished I'll upon myself.
|
|
-----------------
|
In a Motel
|
| Clap Your Hands Say Yeah |
