i am blowing for a trumpet you stood too close to the sunset and it finally outgrew ya so now i paint you on my doorpost i make all of the right noises but they never make it to you
i’m as heavy as a feather you’re a confused little soldier and the bullets go right through ya so now i march you to a tinpan so the death angel understands that i’m gonna take you with me
i am sinking for the sunset you’ve been deafened by these trumpets but my love i’ll listen for ya so i can paint you on my doorpost i’ll make all of the right noises but my love may go right through you