when the sky was the color of cream,

and you started leaving messages on my answering machine


telling me that you were way across town and

would be home in a night or two.

i started keeping track of my losses.

there were only one or two i couldn't cover.

and up there against the milk while sky i saw

fleeting vestiges of you.

the way you vanished gradually

has made a bitter man of me.

and the way you vanished gradually,

has made a bitter man of me.



well, the ocean cleaves the rocks real clean.

i dropped my answering machine.

i watched the waves chew it into tiny little pieces of seafoam hissing in the air.

in the balance sheet i'd been keeping in my mind

i entered two hundred kroners to the left of the debit line.

it was what the machine had cost me.

it was a greater loss than i could bear.

i hear the wheels and knobs whirring down to this very day,

long after the ocean has washed it all away.

i heard the train go by last night.

and it's a slow train outta here, alright.

but the way you disappeared in slow degrees,

has made a very patient man of me.

yeah.

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