There's a patch shimmering under the sky
On the south corner of Bushwick, on the residential side
And I'm afraid I'll slip.
Most days when it's cloudy and all nights I stay inside
But it's 2:30 on New Years' Day and outside it's looking bright
And I could use some chips and a bottle of soda
For my quest to rescue Zelda.
Trying to be brave, I touched the puddle to my tongue
And within a millisecond the bottom of my face went numb
And no one on the street knew anything was wrong.
So I tried to wave my arms to find that they were frozen too
And I tried to run away, my legs felt like they were stuck in clue
And I started to hear a storm.
Through my ears poured freezing rain
And it froze my freezing brain.
A handful of neighbors gathered underneath the awning
of the laundromat 200 feet from the front door of my building
And it smacked my like a pinball
And it crushed me like a wrecking ball
I was swallowed by a cold duvet
And the kids are gonna have a snow day.
I couldn't bear to find out how the story was gonna end
So I closed my eyes and went to sleep and no one found me dead
'Cause everybody stayed inside 'til March.
And a patch of flowers grew out of the concrete where I lied
Some boy picked a dandelion to give to a girl he liked
And she gave him a kiss that warmed his lonely heart.
Now they hold each other tight
And stay in on winter nights.
80's Through the 50's
Miles away and I can't seem to shake the smell of your car in 2003: beach air, bad tunes, stale smoke and junk food.
Tell her to stay and you'll scare her away. Staying the same just makes everything change.
I'm plowing right through friends I don't talk to. Seasons seem to see me sliding out of view. 80's through the 50's. Breezes make me think of you and I'll count down the days just like I count down before I go away. I'm owning up to not being there for you.
Seasons seem to see me sliding out of view. 80's through the 50's. Breezes make me think of you when you see me sliding out of view. It got chilly this Saturday and with my hands in my pockets I walked around in circles like "Oh no, I'm totally f*****." It's one thing to grow old but I'm collecting dust.
'Cause nobody needs me.
Nobody needs me.
Nobody needs me the way that I need you.
On the south corner of Bushwick, on the residential side
And I'm afraid I'll slip.
Most days when it's cloudy and all nights I stay inside
But it's 2:30 on New Years' Day and outside it's looking bright
And I could use some chips and a bottle of soda
For my quest to rescue Zelda.
Trying to be brave, I touched the puddle to my tongue
And within a millisecond the bottom of my face went numb
And no one on the street knew anything was wrong.
So I tried to wave my arms to find that they were frozen too
And I tried to run away, my legs felt like they were stuck in clue
And I started to hear a storm.
Through my ears poured freezing rain
And it froze my freezing brain.
A handful of neighbors gathered underneath the awning
of the laundromat 200 feet from the front door of my building
And it smacked my like a pinball
And it crushed me like a wrecking ball
I was swallowed by a cold duvet
And the kids are gonna have a snow day.
I couldn't bear to find out how the story was gonna end
So I closed my eyes and went to sleep and no one found me dead
'Cause everybody stayed inside 'til March.
And a patch of flowers grew out of the concrete where I lied
Some boy picked a dandelion to give to a girl he liked
And she gave him a kiss that warmed his lonely heart.
Now they hold each other tight
And stay in on winter nights.
80's Through the 50's
Miles away and I can't seem to shake the smell of your car in 2003: beach air, bad tunes, stale smoke and junk food.
Tell her to stay and you'll scare her away. Staying the same just makes everything change.
I'm plowing right through friends I don't talk to. Seasons seem to see me sliding out of view. 80's through the 50's. Breezes make me think of you and I'll count down the days just like I count down before I go away. I'm owning up to not being there for you.
Seasons seem to see me sliding out of view. 80's through the 50's. Breezes make me think of you when you see me sliding out of view. It got chilly this Saturday and with my hands in my pockets I walked around in circles like "Oh no, I'm totally f*****." It's one thing to grow old but I'm collecting dust.
'Cause nobody needs me.
Nobody needs me.
Nobody needs me the way that I need you.