The Screen (Philadelphia)

Lean to turn the knobs on the radio
play this favorite song for you girl
learn to sing it alone in your one room home
the unbalanced low i hold here inside my throat for you
i will see you later on
unless you want me in your door
and if the simple answer is for me to just stay over
drawing swords along your legs neither pad or pencil
and don't wanna walk you to your trip
hold you for just a little
hold you for just a little
hold you for just a little while
until its time for you to drive
back to that southern state your home
a whisper fish there dying on a desert town
need and fold the air between our minds
grasp and grope the fingers for stretching out
oh sure i've got friends but i won't be going down on them
i will see you one more time
unless you want me in your door
i could kneel here on the ground and face in souths direction
but i would be here way too long belief is not cooperative
why can't you whisk yourself away
to be in philadelphia
to be in philadelphia
to be in philadelphia
The winter helps lying on my window side
its been far to long since i haven't prayed myself goodnight
waking down
both equally testified
one last time to look on that screen where meter hides
i will see you one last time
unless you want me in your door
if the air smells fucking great
i think we solved our problems
and if the fear won't close my eyes
then we'll all just disappear
and if we come back here again
will it have grown that older
will it have grown that older
will it have grown that older
until we fail to recognize
i'll trip over my eyes