In A Motel - Clap Your Hands Say Yeah

And so I left when I was just a boy

I swore I’d simply do it all over again

And now up the hill with snow-bit

Blue-tipped fingers, blood from falling

But I can’t go back there no more

In frozen poses, venues lined with pillows

Atlas shouldered some silly blunder or other

You ask for more than this

But I don’t know what more than this is

Is it a motel

With a fashion magazine

In between towns?

I was thinking about my mother

And I wished ill upon myself

Rachel don’t come around here no more

I hear she’s living in Montana

With her brother.

I wish her the best

And I hope she can forget me

But the ghost that comes around

Is a dead-ringer for her

I see her in my nightmares

Discussing modern literature

With her hands around my neck

In a motel

With a fashion magazine

In between towns

I was thinking about my mother

And I wished ill upon myself