Your heart is always almost beating,
along with windy, frozen tunes
But you say you've laughed enough,
your closet's stuffed with last year's blues
But you know, by summertime
your suicide's just last year's news
What will we find inside of your room?
Notes in the margins, records always spinning clues,
you know you want us all to know
your little soul grew old too soon
And surprises lost their thrill,
the cut and pills and the Marquee Moon
along with windy, frozen tunes
But you say you've laughed enough,
your closet's stuffed with last year's blues
But you know, by summertime
your suicide's just last year's news
What will we find inside of your room?
Notes in the margins, records always spinning clues,
you know you want us all to know
your little soul grew old too soon
And surprises lost their thrill,
the cut and pills and the Marquee Moon