This is the sound of finding you
After the night I've just been through
And I didn't know my heart could work so soon.
This is the sound of finding you
When it was all that I could do
To keep me from slowly losing touch in that room.
This is the sound of finding you
Returned in the 'copter on the roof
Your face is more grin than nose and chin,
Like you saw a chimp tucked in a suit.
We're smelling our smells
Now we're tasting our tastes
We're touching our touch,
Conversing in guts and toes and such.
I was in a bad spot there for a few
Locked up in a room with a horrible view
I thought that I was bit but now I don't think it's true,
It looks more like a cut, not so much of a chew.
I'm sure I'll be fine if I give it some time
From the hullaballoo.
I was about to turn to something drastic
Then I found my backroom music
With a gentle perfect soundtrack
Everything starts to make sense
I soaked the quilt in alcohol
Propped it on the stool against the wall,
Lit it with the final flare,
And I left with it over my head
I loved with abandon in every direction
And hugged every last one with smoldering affection
And gathered a pile
And climbed it in style to the roof,
And you were there
In your moccasin boots.
(And so was the army dude)
But as soon as we got high enough
I ejected that fool with a shove!
Now, at last we're alone
And we're cutting through the sky
Towards our home.
(It's an island home.)
It's a tree house somewhere,
We're a jungle affair
With a porcupine fence
And we're so present tense
And with long days and short nights,
We laugh out the highlights
And dance with the fireflies,
Stomping the sand, burritos in hand
And we're sure/shore as the tide at our feet.