Lesser Oceans

She asked 'hows Seattle' in some motherly talk,

Its okay, its mostly grey,

I think I'm just leveling off.

And sometimes I think I'm running around,

Like a dog with no song, no song.

And I'm following some flickering lamp,

In the fog, the fog.

I know, I know, that I'm getting older.

I don't think they really like me.

If I could stay just a little longer,

They might be giving up new greys.

Think back, to the time we drove

To Park Slope for a walk

It's okay, it's far away

I just think I'm measuring ours

And sometimes I think you're writing this down

for the songs, the songs, the songs

and it's something that you don't really feel

but it's ours, it's ours, it's ours

I know, I know, that I'm getting older.

I don't think they really like me.

If I could stay just a little longer,

They might be giving up new greys.

Pa-pa-pa-pa, I'm getting old, I'm getting older

Pa-pa-pa-pa

Pa-pa-pa-pa, it's getting cold upon your shoulders

Pa-pa-pa-pa

I know, I know, that I'm getting older.

I don't think they really like me.

If I could stay just a little longer,

They might be giving up new greys...