Cheap Seats
Fog rolling in under a worried sky
I wish I could paint the view
A drag of the air before I go inside
Get out of the CO2
We're shivering out on the fire escape
Straining to see the parade
Your sister brought a bottle of Beaujolais
Hallucinogens and charades
We'll throw roses on the wreckage from the cheap seats
We'll throw roses on the wreckage from the cheap seats
The roots breaking through the concrete cracks
My laces keep coming undone
We cut through the park with our hands clutched tight
We squint through the winter sun
A fistfight pours out from the corner bar
Like a gaggle of rabid raccoons
The city splayed out with her legs spread wide
Sounds like a Gershwin tune
We'll throw roses on the wreckage from the cheap seats
We'll throw roses on the wreckage from the cheap seats
Take one last bite of this old rotten apple
And ride out to the country with me
Take one last bite of this old rotten apple
And ride out to the country with me
Let's take one last bite of this old rotten apple
And ride out to the country with me
Let's take one last bite of this old rotten apple
And ride out to the country with me
To the country with me
