Well the night began with a Neil Young chord
Lazy and lovely and bored
With my ear on her belly, and my legs off the edge
And I couldn’t quite tell if we were still holding hands

She said something about starfish and the Oregon coast
Drifting and lilting, the song and her voice
And she finished, I think, with a hand through my hair
And I answered a kiss on the belly: I’m still there

And the rain through the screen leaves innocuous tears
Like the sky’s doing fine it just got dust in its eye
But the candle on the sill, it’s sensitive still
And it chokes back and flickers its sympathies

And I’m trying to think of something I might want
But the harvest is there in my arms
And the night trickles on by itself if we want
Completely complete in its own empty charms

I can smell that there’s still half an orange to eat
And the harmonica carries a tray full of cheese
But my love says Neil Young’s voice is like spoiled red wine
Well it’s lucky, it’s lucky she’s so beautiful and kind

Copyright 2004. Words and music by Danny Schmidt