A song to pass the time
par Bright Eyes
lyricscopy.com
There is a middle-aged woman she´s dragging her feet.
She carries baskets of clothes to a laundromat.
While the Mexican children kick rocks into the street
And they laugh in a language I don´t understand.
But I love them.
Why do I love them?
So the neighborhood is dimming as I smoke on the porch
And watch the people as they pass enclosed inside their cars.
On their faces just anger or disappointment.
I start wishing there was something I could offer them.
A consolation, what could I offer them?
And they are sad in their suburbs robots water the lawn
And everything they touch gets dusted spotless.
And so they start to believe they´ve not touched anything at all.
And the cars in the driveway only multiply.
They are lost in their houses.
I have heard them sing in the shower
Making speeches to their sister on the telephone.
Saying, you come home.
Woman, you come here.
Don´t stay so far away from me.
This weather has me wanting love more tangible.
Something I can hold cause it´s getting cold.
I say hold up our fists to the flame in the sky
To block out the light that´s reaching for our eyes
Cause it... cause it would blind us. Yeah it will blind us.
Well, I´ve locked my actions in the grooves of routine.
So I may never be free of this apathy.
But I wait for a letter that is coming to me.
She sends me pictures of the ocean in an envelope.
So there still is hope.
Yes, I can be healed.
There is someone looking for what I´ve concealed
In my secret drawer, in my pockets deep,
You will find the reasons that I can´t sleep and you will still want me.
But will you still want me? Will you still want?...
Well, I say come for the week.
You can sleep in my bed.
And pass through my life like a dream through my head.
It will... it will be easy. I´ll make it easy.
But all I have for the moment is a song to pass the time.
A melody to keep me from worrying.
Oh, some simple progression to keep my fingers busy.
And words that are sure to come back to me
And they´ll be laughing, and they´ll be laughing.
My mediocrity.
My mediocrity.
(And they´ll be laughing)
She carries baskets of clothes to a laundromat.
While the Mexican children kick rocks into the street
And they laugh in a language I don´t understand.
But I love them.
Why do I love them?
So the neighborhood is dimming as I smoke on the porch
And watch the people as they pass enclosed inside their cars.
On their faces just anger or disappointment.
I start wishing there was something I could offer them.
A consolation, what could I offer them?
And they are sad in their suburbs robots water the lawn
And everything they touch gets dusted spotless.
And so they start to believe they´ve not touched anything at all.
And the cars in the driveway only multiply.
They are lost in their houses.
I have heard them sing in the shower
Making speeches to their sister on the telephone.
Saying, you come home.
Woman, you come here.
Don´t stay so far away from me.
This weather has me wanting love more tangible.
Something I can hold cause it´s getting cold.
I say hold up our fists to the flame in the sky
To block out the light that´s reaching for our eyes
Cause it... cause it would blind us. Yeah it will blind us.
Well, I´ve locked my actions in the grooves of routine.
So I may never be free of this apathy.
But I wait for a letter that is coming to me.
She sends me pictures of the ocean in an envelope.
So there still is hope.
Yes, I can be healed.
There is someone looking for what I´ve concealed
In my secret drawer, in my pockets deep,
You will find the reasons that I can´t sleep and you will still want me.
But will you still want me? Will you still want?...
Well, I say come for the week.
You can sleep in my bed.
And pass through my life like a dream through my head.
It will... it will be easy. I´ll make it easy.
But all I have for the moment is a song to pass the time.
A melody to keep me from worrying.
Oh, some simple progression to keep my fingers busy.
And words that are sure to come back to me
And they´ll be laughing, and they´ll be laughing.
My mediocrity.
My mediocrity.
(And they´ll be laughing)
