When the sky was the color of cream,
And you started leaving messages on my answering machine
Telling me that you were way across town and
Would be home in a night or two.
I started keeping track of my losses.
There were only one or two i couldn't cover.
And up there against the milk while sky i saw
Fleeting vestiges of you.
The way you vanished gradually
Has made a bitter man of me.
And the way you vanished gradually,
Has made a bitter man of me.
Well, the ocean cleaves the rocks real clean.
I dropped my answering machine.
I watched the waves chew it into tiny little pieces of seafoam hissing in the air.
In the balance sheet i'd been keeping in my mind
I entered two hundred kroners to the left of the debit line.
It was what the machine had cost me.
It was a greater loss than i could bear.
I hear the wheels and knobs whirring down to this very day,
Long after the ocean has washed it all away.
I heard the train go by last night.
And it's a slow train outta here, alright.
But the way you disappeared in slow degrees,
Has made a very patient man of me.
Yeah