The Mountain Goats
Going to Some Damned English City
Your skirt was red and flowing
Your blouse was blue
On the night I locked eyes with you
It seemed to me like I hadn't seen your eyes since last December
My shredding muscles
My popping joints
I saw the pupils of your eyes by firelight shrinking down to pinpoints
You were poking at the embers
There's a cold wind coming off the ocean
There's a cold wind coming off the ocean
I wet my finger with my tongue and pressed it in the ashes
Rubbеd it up against your perfect eyеlashes
You said something really important
Something pretty seems to have slipped my mind
Walls were freezing, so was the floor
I didn't want to hurt you anymore
You had a sad, sad, friend in front of you
That dying fire behind
There was a cold wind coming off the ocean
There was a cold wind coming off the ocean