Gretta's in the corner but she's miles away
|
Mary's coaxing Adam to stare time in the face
|
And me and Joey Carpenter are listening to the naked miner
|
Talking about the way things were before the world was green
|
|
I can run where I want
|
On Easter morning
|
Run where I dream
|
|
It's like a grey suited businessman who's looking for the answer
|
His wife is complicated and his girlfriend has cancer
|
Maybe I'm a dotted line between the clouds and Union Station
|
Maybe I'm an open window swinging in the breeze
|
|
Tell me if you've ever seen the convalescent fisherman
|
Before I kiss you in the corner of my lifelong quarantine
|
|
If my name was Richard Nixon would you treat me with conviction
|
If my name was Colin Thatcher would my protest really matter
|
But my name is contradiction and I'm standing in your liquor store
|
I'm stealing from your baby boy and lying in your lanes
|
|
You know I don't care much for your chemical names
|
Pesticide and pimozide they're all the same
|
And I've half a mind to sit you down and tell you about the holy war
|
I've half a mind to sit you down and blow you up with metaphor
|
|
-----------------
|
Easter Morning
|
Wild Strawberries |