Rochester (feat. Sam Amidon)

A nine month winter

In the station wagon

Driven to grade school

And seattle fashion

The t-shirts we wore

Hung near the linoleum

Which, though polished

Scattered ashes in the classroom

They would not talk to you

Said they could see through you

And you swallowed hard

And scanned the street for cars

To take you home

Over the river

And bright-eyed freedom

Bridges were taller

And you could see them

And drowning sorrows

In bowls of golden grahams

Birds out the window

While you ran through the plan

They would not talk to you

Said they could see through you

And you swallowed hard

And scanned the street for cars

To take you home

You chose a Wednesday

No logic sideways

One day to find you

An assembly fridays

But that grey morning

I was cutting class

And saw you balancing

Like gymnastics

You and my stomach

They fell together

My eyes were burning

Was it the weather?

And then that silver splash

And a sea of sirens

Lights on the water

Had all gone red

II would not talk to you

I pretended I could see through you

And watched you swallow hard

And scan the street for cars

To take you home