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hatred
I hate the past
I can´t see anything at all, all I see is me
that´s clear enough
and that´s whats important, to see me
my eyes can focus
my brain is talking
looks pretty good to me
my head´s on straight, my girlfriend´s beautiful
looks pretty good to me
sometimes I speak
tonight there´s nothing to say
sometimes we freak
and laugh all day
hold these pages up to the light
see the jacknife inside of the dream
a railroad runs through the record stores at night
coming in for the deep freeze
Mary: a simple word, are you there in the country?
Yr eyes so full, yr head so tight
can´t you hear me?
Remember our talk
that day on the phone?
I was the door, and you were the station
with shattered glass and miles between us
we still flew away in the conversation
my cup is full, and I feel okay
the world is dull, but not today
she think´s she´s a goddess
she says she talks to the spirits
I wonder if she can talk to herself?
If she can bear to hear it?
this is Eric´s trip
we´ve all come to watch him slip
he´s slipping all the way to Texas
can you dig it?
(Eric says "The sky is blue...")
I see with a glass eye
the pavement view
a shadow forming, across the fields rushing
thru me to you
we tore down the world, and put up four walls
I breathe in the myth
I´m over the city, fucking the future
I´m high and inside yr kiss
we can´t see clear
but what we see is a alright
we make up what we can´t hear
and then we sing all night
scattered pages and shattered lights
a jacknife and a dream
there´s something moving over there on the right
like nothing I´ve never seen