in blizzard of '77the cars were just lumps on the snowand then latertripping in 7-11the shelves were stretching out of controlon a plane ridethe more it shakesthe more i have to let gonow the signalsstill getting all mixed upwe're always doing damage controlbut in the middle of the night i worryit's blurry even without lighti know i have got a negative edgethat's why i sharpen all the others a lotit's like flowers or ladybugspretty weeds or red beetles with dots(chorus)i miss you more than i knew(repeat)