Ben Gibbard Photobooth
I remember when the days were long
and the nights when the living room was on the lawn.
Constant quarreling the childish fits
and our clothes in a pile on the ottoman.
All the slander and double speak were only foolish attempts
to show you did not mean,
anything but the blatant proof was your lips touching mine in the photobooth.
And as the summers ending the cold air rush your hard heart away.
You were so condescending,
and this is all that's left
scraping paper to document.
I've packed a change of clothes and it's time to move on.
Cup your mouth to compress the sound,
skinny dipping with the kids from a nearby town.
And everything that I said was true
as the flashes blinded us in the photobooth.
Well I lost track when those words were said,
you took the wheel and you steered us into my bed,
and soon we woke and I walked you home
and it was pretty clear that is was hardly love.
And as the summers ending,
the cold air will rush your hard heart away.
You were so condescending,
and this is all that's left scraping paper to document.
I've packed a change of clothes and it's time to move on.
And as the summers ending,
the cold air will rush your hard heart away.
You were so condescending,
as the alcohol drained the days.
And as the summers ending,
the cold air will rush your hard heart away.
You were so condescending.
And this is all that's left,
The empty bottles spent cigarettes so pack a change of clothes
'cause its time to move on.
