Paroles:
Maps Atlases Tree Swallows Houses

Pets and the sound of pets And the subtlety of traffic jams When building a glass friend We posted pictures of everyone we've known Traveling without

Listen to the sounds they make, the sounds they make, the sounds they make So far from the middle, so far from the middle Listen to the sounds they

and thrown over the side feet on the dashboard on the way home clipping your nails like a metronome Raised glass to cheeles and unfamiliar hands Pretending every place is a house

Migration to a town where tree swallows houses migration to a town where tree, swallows, houses like a mime troupe ( stowin' (?) ), we're all aging