|
Up North there's a place for you |
|
To start your still-life up again |
|
We make our plans from spit and dust |
|
The sound of never and the taste of love |
|
They chased us through the Mission, |
|
We were tromping through the woods |
|
And the skirts of sweet Natoma |
|
Scared us both pretty good |
|
So here's to leaving it all behind: |
|
Fathers, lovers and an ugly wage |
|
We've always known what's best for us |
|
The sound of never and the taste of love |
|
I'll be lit up like the sunrise |
|
And you'll be Russian Blue |
|
Next storm that I see off the coast |
|
Will bring me back to you |