...And the Hazy Sea - Cymbals Eat Guitars

Do you know how many cities had been built

On the mainland and the trains there

How they’d glide over the marshes

And the hazy sea

Carrying business men in starched collar shirts

Who peered out windows that would fog

Faster than you could wipe them, man

Why are there mountains

Then the last fire dies

We rebuild with foundations

Set just slightly higher

On compacted ash and bone

Spiralling skyward at the GWB

Will you take the wheel for a while

I’m suddenly real tired

We two running our course

Your summer version

Was so fresh and fertile emerald green

The wind in your hair

Like wind Russian through the canopy

And I was green too with robust fucked envy

And the way suspension bridges shake

When you’re stopped behind trucks

Sailing into 1999