I've been counting crows again And no one wants my name The blue motel goes ghostly as she fades Into the gray of the saturday rain I'm a war zone-- If you lose me, you can find me, I'll be dancing down the shingles. My rooftop's always free from prying eyes And the leaves will collect your little white lies my friend So follow me down the river With no shame Follow me down.
Bitter spectres beckon: 'let it rain. Why don't you turn, weary traveler? Why don't you fly? Why don't you fall?' The brown and yellow leaves are all They coast down dreamy breezes And tremble in their dancing as much as we. It's a war zone; terrible turning journey Of a deathwish down
And there, along the river's path we follow: Pagan rain-kids with nowhere else to go Let it furrow Let it follow Follow me down.
