The bus stop to the trash can is the single longest mile
In the morning so hung over and it only tastes of bile
Playing sixties singers loudly, but I won't be singing no Swallow Song
And last night, she looked alright, considering, you know...
The language barriers were nothing that hands couldn't handle
But I disappointed Vashti cause Italians don't sing no swallow song
No swallow song
Jeans, when you left me, I was doubled-up
If you gave a fuck, I don't know
The rivers we crossed to get here, doubled-up and over
I look online in the morning to see where I was
I look online in the morning to see who I was
Conservation of mass, and concentration on ash, we're all over
But the principle's that someone's getting down about now
We had it, I lost it, called me a fag in the Czech Republic
You pay for what you get on those overnight trains
And I regret that I can't crack the code to your Italian brain
First in, first out, a lover in London who left me down
A Belgian brew, a shattered glass, a Viennese crypt you can put me in again
The plane ride home, the girls I'd phone
If I ever touch down, if I ever hit
SFO, you know it's the only way to go
Though I know, I know, we got San Jo and
Oakland, tell me when we're home, man
Tell me if we're ever gonna get back home
So we make do, and we make two
You tell me all the things that you think I'm gonna do
But I'm gone, you're wrong, I'll be singing swallow songs