|
Woods walls and neon signs |
|
They're all elbows and eyes |
|
And how they speak makes sense to the sound |
|
Of the rain outside. |
|
They'll make it sound so cheap; |
|
Like mornings are all this fine. |
|
Sleeping through tears and slippery nights that will soon cake and dry |
|
I'm not asking why. |
|
We left a note in your car in a place where you'll look |
|
and you'll find out on the way back home, the sunset is someone's. |
|
From fast clouds to clear sky, |
|
No one's asking why |
|
Through reflections and handprints |
|
I can still see for miles. |
|
I see couches I could sleep on |
|
And tell a hundred stores |
|
Of fatherless friends and friendless fathers |
|
And those who'll notice that some can stay in while some are left out, |
|
And somehow we all fall asleep tonight. |