Lyrics John Vanderslice

John Vanderslice

My Old Flame

My old flame, my wife,

Poor ghost old love

My old flame, my wife,

One day in June, I drove by our old house in Maine

Everything changed for the best

How quivering and fierce we were

Simmering like birds

With our videos and records

Our old house

Everything's changed

Bleached out and aired, IKEA-d and swept bare,

Poor ghost, old love,

Speak with your old voice

Of flaming insight

That kept us awake at night

In one bed and apart, my old wife

My old flame