Слова:
Mountain Goats The Bitter Melon Farm

red red, red everywhere bright red all along the thin canvas wall i stepped outside, for a little air i stepped outside to get away from it all i went

black mollies in the aquarium, darting back and forth as though an earthquake were certain and I, turned up the heater and I ripped off my shirt

somewhere in the damn forest... where the fat pines look like my brother's arms, thick and ripe i'm trying to get out for days and these green vines

we both know you're leaving you just don't want to say it yet 'cause you don't want to hurt my feelings so you gnaw your little holes in the net and

the waterfall and a statue of jesus 200 feet tall 3000 miles from the north california and 3 little feet from falling off the earth and the shadow of a mountain

the waves were beating against the shore the waves were beating as if they hadn't before the dock was soaking the wood was wet your hair blew madly i

the glowing world, the bench backed up against the house the chicken coops the darkness surrounding everything it was late and the night was moving slowly

you're a strong one, you're a lion you're brave, death defyin' you're in your car, crossing town. and i can feel you, coming down. you're so pretty,

what cars there are go by like snails and ice crystals shine on the staircase's handrails the quiet air is worth some discussion as the windows crack