Findlay Ohio, 1968, poking hot tar bubbles With a stick on the driveway Grammy’s a Republican, Nixon is her man In 2 years time, Ohio will be up in flames
I like the smell of the trash and leaves Burning in the cans Roger is the boy next door he’s a wanderer, he starts With his hands…
Cathy’s the outcast we’re nice but we steer clear Everyone says watch out for her mom The word is she’s crazy she’s always drinking beer Cathy’s dad never came back from Vietnam
I like the smell of the trash and leaves burning in the cans Roger is the boy next door he’s a wanderer He starts by holding my hand
Scared, curious, raised up nice, but furious What happens to a fence-scaling girl If you catch your pants on top, first you’re stuck and then you drop You’ll look back and first you feel the thrill And then…
I wasn’t into poetry, but Sexton changed all that “The awful Rowing” past in tow and sinking slowly Listless and listing the things that I leave behind, So unkind, the pull of history
We drove in a station wagon, wheels soft slapping Trenton on the turnpike The smell of the refineries rushes back to me And how I loved the lights
Scared but curious, raised up right but furious What happens to a fence-scaling girl If you catch your pants on top, first you’re stuck and then you drop You’ll look back and first you’ll feel the thrillTeksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.
