| There are nights when I think that Sal Paradise was right
|
| Boys and girls in America, they have such a sad time together
|
| Sucking off each other at the demonstrations, making sure their makeup’s
|
| straight
|
| Crushing one another with colossal expectations, dependent, undisciplined,
|
| sleeping late
|
| She was a really cool kisser and she wasn’t all that strict of a Christian
|
| She was a damn good dancer but she wasn’t all that great of a girlfriend
|
| He likes the warm feeling but he’s tired of all the dehydration
|
| Most nights are crystal clear but tonight it’s like he’s stuck between stations
|
| On the radio
|
| The Devil and John Berryman, they took a walk together
|
| And they ended up on Washington talking to the river
|
| He said, «I've surrounded myself with doctors and deep thinkers
|
| Their big heads and soft bodies make for lousy lovers»
|
| There was that night that we thought John Berryman could fly
|
| But he didn’t, so he died
|
| She said «You're pretty good with words, but words won’t save your life»
|
| And they didn’t, so he died
|
| Yeah, he was drunk and exhausted, he was critically acclaimed and respected
|
| He loved the Golden Gophers but he hated all the drawn-out winters
|
| He likes the warm feeling but he’s tired of all the dehydration
|
| Most nights were kind of fuzzy but that last night he had total retention
|
| Yeah, these Twin City kisses
|
| They sound like clicks and hisses
|
| We all come down and drowned
|
| In the Mississippi River
|
| We drink and we dry up and now we crumble into dust
|
| We get wet and we corrode and now we’re covered up in rust
|
| We drink and we dry up and now we crumble into dust
|
| We get wet and we corrode and now we’re covered up in rust
|
| She was a really cool kisser and she wasn’t all that strict of a Christian
|
| She was a damn good dancer but she wasn’t all that great of a girlfriend
|
| He likes the warm feeling but he’s tired of all the dehydration
|
| Most nights are crystal clear but tonight it’s like he’s stuck between stations
|
| These Twin City kisses
|
| They sound like clicks and hisses
|
| We all come down and drowned |