Hatred I hate the past I can't see anything at all, all I see is me that's clear enough and that's whats important, to see me my eyes can focus my brain is talking looks pretty good to me my head's on straight, my girlfriend's beautiful looks pretty good to me sometimes I speak tonight there's nothing to say sometimes we freak and laugh all day hold these pages up to the light see the jacknife inside of the dream a railroad runs through the record stores at night coming in for the deep freeze Mary: a simple word, are you there in the country? Yr eyes so full, yr head so tight can't you hear me? Remember our talk that day on the phone? I was the door, and you were the station with shattered glass and miles between us we still flew away in the conversation my cup is full, and I feel okay the world is dull, but not today she think's she's a goddess she says she talks to the spirits I wonder if she can talk to herself? If she can bear to hear it? this is Eric's trip we've all come to watch him slip he's slipping all the way to Texas can you dig it? (Eric says "The sky is blue...") I see with a glass eye the pavement view a shadow forming, across the fields rushing thru me to you we tore down the world, and put up four walls I breathe in the myth I'm over the city, fucking the future I'm high and inside yr kiss we can't see clear but what we see is a alright we make up what we can't hear and then we sing all night scattered pages and shattered lights a jacknife and a dream there's something moving over there on the right like nothing I've never seen