The Mountain Goats
Agemo’s Hoops
You were breathing against my throat
Covering your laugh up with your long black overcoat
All circuits warming up
And you told me what you were going to do
And I promised to do the same thing too
And the air, the air in New England was pure
Poison

The car was parked out back among the trees
Your voice was getting higher by slow degrees
You were giving me directions
And you told me where I came from
Well God bless us, every one
And the air, the air in New England was pure
Poison, poison, poison, poison