Paroles: Wilco. Summer Teeth.

Like a cloud his fingers explode
On the typewriter ribbon, the shadow grows
His heart's in a bowl behind the bank

And every evening when he get home
To make his supper and eat it alone
His black shirt cries while his shoes get cold

It's just a dream he keeps having
And it doesn't seem to mean anything
And it doesn't seem to mean anything

One summer, a suicide
Another autumn, a traveler's guide
He hits snooze twice before he dies
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And every evening when he get home
To make his supper and eat it alone
His black shirt cries while his shoes get cold

It's just a dream he keeps having
And it doesn't seem to mean anything
It's just a dream he keeps having

He feels lucky to have you here
In his kitchen, in your chair
Sometimes he forgets that you're even there

It's just a dream he keeps having
And it doesn't seem to mean anything
It's just a dream he keeps having

It's just a dream
And it doesn't seem to mean anything