A line of mixed blue and white, Silk flowers growing 'round the side. Of this apartments hollow ground, Oh it's morning in this town. I hope it's pouring when it comes. Novembers coming with the seasons, And he points west in her direction. Something he had often done.
A line of mixed blue and white, Silk flowers growing 'round the side, of this apartments hollow ground, Oh it's morning in this town. I hope it's pouring when it comes. Novembers coming with the seasons, And he points west in her direction.
Something he had often done. How heavy hearted Hampshire has become. Back to the sad, old smell of Cambridge. Cold as hell weather, the station.
So this now what best friends do? Because for sure I cannot blame her. Neither of us are ever growing up. But these have been some bad days, And this years fashion face won't last. Well these have been some bad days, A holiday in North Adams Mass.
Something he had often done. How heavy hearted Hampshire has become. Back to the sad, old smell of Cambridge. Cold as hell weather, the station. Well I can see I've lost my sight, But either the way the sun won't shine.
Three days out of the weigh station, Out into the steady smash of the sun. Into that upstate horizon.
And that's the longest drive. Coming home just short of night. Driving home all morning, All day long, and all day light.
And mountains of wester Maine. Nine months north of boston, the city, A sleet had began to steal across the day.