American Boom

October '97, with the hurricane approaching
I was in my room
Kisses, bicycles, glimpses of the sea
I can recall them vividly

Like all the first things
You so comically inaccessible
Waiting to meet your husband from the train

We never gave a shit about whether we were or weren't hip
We played in a dust cloud like Pig-Pen in Peanuts
We played in a dust cloud like Pig-Pen in Peanuts

And every letter leaves you bitter
We're up on the cricket pitch with cracked lips in the middle of winter

Here comes the sun, here comes the moon
Here comes the hurricane, I'm in my room
American Airlines, American Boom
She'll be home soon, I'll be in my room
Here comes the light, she shines like a spoon
When she comes around I'll be in my room
I'll be in my room...

There are no lightbulbs left on the bottom shelf
I keep leaving you in a muddle, you keep leaving me for someone else
For someone else...

And every letter leaves you bitter
We're up on the cricket pitch with cracked lips in the middle of winter

Here comes the sun, here comes the moon
Here comes the hurricane, I'm in my room
American Airlines, American Boom
She'll be home soon, I'll be in my room
Here comes the light, she shines like a spoon
When she comes around I'll be in my room
I'll be in my room...