|
(formerly known as "Spalding Gray is Missing") |
|
the flicker of the tv and a long forgotten memory |
|
are the only things you'll ever leave behind |
|
the dust that's on the floor, there's noone at your door |
|
now tell me, do you really think you're free? |
|
the war is done, my friend, you fought until the end |
|
you threw your white flag down |
|
morning, noon and night, you always seemed to lose the fight |
|
spalding, where the hell are you? |
|
you say that the grasses are greener and everything's cleaner on their shores |
|
today is the day where you're going to swim to cambodia |
|
you once were lit ablaze with the fire of your younger days |
|
you blinded everyone you met |
|
you never were the same, since dublin's night consumed your flame |
|
and stole the matches from your pocket |
|
the hudson's freezing, but your braincells keep on squeezing 'round the |
|
thought that you must swim away today |
|
from the staten island ferry on the coldest night in january |
|
it's cambodia or bust |
|
you once had feared the man who held you in his hand |
|
and controlled you when you sleep |
|
but now the end's your friend, you're reaching to extend |
|
your white flag to the sky you once had cursed |
|
the sun is sinking and your frozen eyes are blinking |
|
at the cold atlantic nothingness ahead |
|
you take a deep sigh as you wave a passing goodbye |
|
and you set your course and swim away |
|
you say that the grasses are greener and everything's cleaner on their shores |
|
today is the day where you're going to swim to cambodia |
