her hand's in her pocket my hand's in her pocket we stand like that for sometime I'm singing her an old song a real good one wish I could say it was mine
I'm pulling her closer talking over her shoulder under a black of space with the white light blinking on the wing of a leaving plane
trains coming and going trains sound like the ocean the birds are fish in the sky sunup on the rooftop she feels good and so do I
I'm leaning over the railing and I getting the feeling maybe this is my year yellow newsprint covered in shoeprint keeps blowing around here
my kite string snaps it's never coming back it's off to god knows where flying over the water flying over a mirror just a kite without a care
I give her a squeeze I got ten or twelve keys still left on my keyring my thumb has a thumbprint my gum has tropical twist lover I'm a living thing
lover I'm a living thing lover I'm a-livin'
she laughs at something I said she throws back her head she throws a wrench in the gears the world marks a sea change in my rib cage and right between my ears
the shape of the buildings the shapeless beginnings in an orange blood red all of the universe's power in this time that's ours god, give me life in my head