Paroles: Mountain Goats, The. Balance.

two tall glasses of sweet ice tea

underneath the sweet gum tree

and the love we once nurturched

you and me

discintigrating violently

stick your toung out

catch the peices as they drift down the air

i am

too slow to catch them all

not too far gone to care



two slow summer hours

spent picking at the bones

figuring the intrest on delinquint loans

speaking in sad and mournful tones

trying to squeeze tears out of

mute stones

wet your finger

place it tward the wind

feel disastar in the air

we are far too slow to out run it now

not to far gone to care