Paroles de Rochester (feat. Sam Amidon)

A nine month winter In the station wagon Driven to grade school And seattle fashion The t-shirts we wore Hung near the linoleum Which, though polished Scattered ashes in the classroom They would not talk to you Said they could see through you And you swallowed hard And scanned the street for cars To take you home Over the river And bright-eyed freedom Bridges were taller And you could see them And drowning sorrows In bowls of golden grahams Birds out the window While you ran through the plan They would not talk to you Said they could see through you And you swallowed hard And scanned the street for cars To take you home You chose a Wednesday No logic sideways One day to find you An assembly fridays But that grey morning I was cutting class And saw you balancing Like gymnastics You and my stomach They fell together My eyes were burning Was it the weather? And then that silver splash And a sea of sirens Lights on the water Had all gone red II would not talk to you I pretended I could see through you And watched you swallow hard And scan the street for cars To take you home