Death cab for cutie
Текст песни No Joy in Mudville

last night i dreamt that i was you. i was dressed all in black
with dark glasses and attitude. such a pose i could simply not
hold through days in a northern town that i had once called a
home. your studies for fringe new york streets: i was reading
the pavement in every work you would speak. to a "brownstone
up three flights of stairs" and it's on...
buying drinks for the poets upstate, this southern corrupting
towed you down the interstate, and they all said that you were
the king of gloomy disruption that surfaced when you would speak.
this town simply cannot compete so i'm packing my Bullets and
Silverstones and heading east to a "brownstone up three flights
of stairs" and it's on...
if i could have (had) my way this year would bridge '66 (again?)
trust fund hipsters were casing the room chock full of amphetamines.
the overturned kick drum book set the pace with incomparable
cool.
and if the tempo was lousy it was lost on all but you...