6 o'clock this morning
face pressed against the linoleum
by the cold light of dawn,
I could see on the front lawn
Last night it had been snowing
And the white it covers dead grass
Covers everything in its path
And it leaves not a trace, of the time or the place
Just your footsteps from the front porch to the sidewalk
But these dreams they don't drop like flies
They drop like air-o-planes
While the engine strains
Not like the seagulls in the skies,
floating on cotton balls
And warm rising air
So languid and lackadaisical
So languid and lackadaisical
By 10 o'clock I'm standing
television talks of the news
With a cup in one hand
Coffee crystals and Styrofoam
I call the number on the other hand
It rings and rings but no one’s home
And everything we have been given
And everything that has been said
It's small and absurd
They made it up, haven't you heard?
It's as solid as the soundbites on the airwaves.
Jonah: guitar, vocals | James: bass | Scott: drums