| <Mountain Goats> page <Sweden> album page |
Some Swedish TreesWell, you were standing in the doorWell, I wondered what you were waiting for I saw the wild strawberries on the vine Out of control Well, I was trying to think of something clever You were saying nothing whatsoever I saw the berries throw their hooks into the soil Felt the blood between us turning black as motor oil We come from California The air around you was familiar to me now You were gazing westward I was looking at you again |