She took the Oakdale ridge long past Condor Avenue
She locked the car and slid past into rhythmic quietude
He's coming, let me get to the porch
The wind threw the screen door like a bastard back and forth

Chimes fall over each other like wartime amputees
The sound of the wheels burn down our hands and up our sleeves
Cotton candy, lost my shirt here at the fairgrounds
Every morning back to work, love on the rebound

I don't know, I don't know what to do with your clothes or your letters
And it'll make the poor girl out of you

She took the Oakdale ridge long past Condor Avenue
The fairground's lit, a dead man sits, he's been looking at you
He tips his hat, under that his skull is rotten [?]
The Mexican bottle broke once and it sits in the sand of the beach

I can't think of what's been keeping the small boy, he is stranger lately [?]
He's a white lie now and they're trying to guess his weight
The bearded lady dresses him, now that's his mother
Maybe one day he may find another

And see how the sun beats down on the construction men in blue
They'll make the poor girl out of you
She took the Oakdale ridge long past Condor Avenue
A street cleaner rolls down the block, it's tossed in the sweat and dew
They say that you should never lose your mind when a moth gets crushed
Because a light bulb would only love it half as much

You thought I was dead but I'm the ancient lover who's never left
I live in your camera but I sleep in your bed
You used to play the piano like you had your arms around the moon
And I slept in your old room last night and had a few

Someone's throwing bricks out past Condor Avenue
And it'll make the poor girl out of you

"What a strange boy," she thinks, "he is so serious,"
He doesn't say a word to me, it's all between us
He sleeps alone and eats alone, and in the morning they will take him

Na, nananana na