Lesser Oceans

She asked, 'How's Seattle?'
In some motherly talk
«It's okay, it’s 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 just stay 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 (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 just stay a little longer
They might be giving up new greys
Bah, bah, bah, bah
I’m getting old
Bah, bah, bah, bah
I’m getting older
Bah, bah, bah, bah
It’s getting cold
Bah, bah, bah, bah
Upon your shoulders
Bah, bah, bah, bah
I know, I know, that I’m getting older
I don’t think they really like me
If I could just stay a little longer
They might be giving up new greys
I know, I know, that I’m getting older
I don’t think they really like me
If I could just stay a little longer
They might be giving up new greys
I know, I know, that I’m getting older
I don’t think they really like me
If I could just stay a little longer
They might be giving up new greys