Matt Pond Strafford
I'll follow you
Into the hills of Strafford
I see you looking backwards
As a blue, in the review
We drive out past
The snowbanks tower over
Our cars along the shoulders
Above the nights, the pine tree lines
And as she goes
The trailing from your tailpipe
I put them out of my sight
I don't need to know what it means
And I don't know
Where we'll be when it's over
Will we slip under covers?
Lose these clothes and beat the cold
I don't know which bed will be empty
I don't care if its the floor this time
We're through with waiting
We're finished waiting
Surprising with the lights off its so simple
The beating stops to go straight into time
What was senseless
Starts to make sense
What was before
Not worth remembering in
The slipping and the steaming
Hands are scarred, I'm racing jars and
And we don't know
Where we'll be when its over
Will we slip under covers?
Lose these clothes and beat the cold
