Из альбома: One Lost Day

Findlay Ohio, 1968
Poking hot tar bubbles with a stick on the driveway
Grammy’s a Republican, Nixon is her man
In two years time, Ohio will be up in flames
I like the smell of the trash and leaves
Burning in the cans
Roger is the boy next door, he’s a wanderer
He starts with his hand
Cathy’s the outcast, we’re nice but we steer clear
Everyone says watch out for her mom
The word is she’s crazy, she’s always drinking beer
Cathy’s dad never came back from Vietnam
I like the smell of the trash and leaves
Burning in the cans
Roger is the boy next door he’s a wanderer
He starts by holding my hands
Scared, but curious
Raised up nice, but furious
What happens to a fence-scaling girl
And if you catch your pants on top
First you’re stuck and then you’ll drop
You’ll look back and first you feel the thrill
And then
I wasn’t into poetry, but Sexton changed all that
«The Awful Rowing» past in tow and sinking slowly
Listless and listing the things I leave behind
So unkind, the pull of history
We drove in a station wagon, wheels soft slapping
Trenton on the turnpike
The smell of the refineries rushes back to me And how I loved the lights
Scared, but curious
Raised up nice, but furious
What happens to a fence-scaling girl
And if you catch your pants on top
First you’re stuck and then you’ll drop
You’ll look back and first you feel the thrill

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