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Sharp hangover, it is Christmas Eve
It fades and evaporates
Passing the trains and lakes and trees
Your breaths are short and urgent and it is unsettling
'Cause you got married when you were 15
Now I hide out from telephone wires at Waxahatchee Creek
Your body, weak from smoke and tar and subsequent disease
You got married when you were 15
No miscalculation
Each other's only living means
Your arms wane thinner
And your legs surrender
Sunlight probing, it is Christmas Eve
No stitch of shade
We pass by lakes and big mimosa trees
Your breaths are short and urgent and it is unsettling
You got married when you were 15

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American Weekend

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Waxahatchee texty

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