Night Raid

There's a picture of Jesus lying in his mother's arms

Shuttered windows, cars humming on the street below

The fountain throbbed in the lobby of the Grand Hotel

We checked into room thirty-three, well well, well well

You were a runaway flake of snow

You were skinny and white as a wafer, yeah I know

Sitting on the edge of the bed clicking your shoes

I slid my little songs out from under you

And we all rose from our wonder

We would never admit defeat

And we leaned out of the window

As the rain fell on the street, on the street

They were just a sigh released from a dying star

They were runaway flakes of snow, yeah I know

They annexed your insides in a late night raid

We sent down for drinks and something to eat

The cars humming in the rain on the street below

A fountain throbs in the lobby of the Grand Hotel

A spurting font of creativity, yeah I know

Your head in a pool of your own streaming hair

And Jesus lying in his mother's arms

Just so up on the wall, just so

And we all rose up from our wonder

We would never admit defeat

And we leaned out of the window

And watched the horses in the street, in the street

In room thirty-three, yeah

Yeah, I know