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Small town, bright lights, saturday night, |
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Pinballs and pool halls flashing their lights. |
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Making change behind the counter in a penny arcade |
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Sat the fat girl daughter of virginia and ray |
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(spoken:) |
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Lydia |
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Lydia hid her thoughts like a cat |
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Behind her small eyes sunk deep in her fat. |
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She read romance magazines up in her room |
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And felt just like sunday on saturday afternoon. |
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Chorus: |
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But dreaming just comes natural |
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Like the first breath from a baby, |
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Like sunshine feeding daisies, |
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Like the love hidden deep in your heart. |
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Bunk beds, shaved heads, saturday night, |
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A warehouse of strangers with sixty watt lights. |
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Staring through the ceiling, just wanting to be |
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Lay one of too many, a young pfc: |
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(spoken:) |
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Donald |
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There were spaces between donald and whatever he said. |
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Strangers had forced him to live in his head. |
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He envisioned the details of romantic scenes |
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After midnight in the stillness of the barracks latrine. |
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Repeat chorus: |
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Hot love, cold love, no love at all. |
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A portrait of guilt is hung on the wall. |
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Nothing is wrong, nothing is right. |
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Donald and lydia made love that night. |
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(spoken:) |
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Love |
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The made love in the mountains, they made love in the streams, |
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They made love in the valleys, they made love in their dreams. |
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But when they were finished there was nothing to say, |
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'cause mostly they made love from ten miles away. |
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Repeat chorus: |
