Lyrics:

Michael Stipe works through his emotions in the aftermath of Nirvana frontman Kurt Cobain’s suicide. He befriended the Nirvana singer in the years before his death.
Yeah, all those stars drip down like butter
And promises are sweet
We hold out our pans with our hands to catch them
We eat them up, drink them up, up, up, up

Hey, let me in
Hey, let me in

I only wish that I could hear you whisper down
Mister fisher moved to a less peculiar ground
He gathered up his loved ones and he brought them all around
To say goodbye, nice try

Hey, let me in
Yeah, yeah, yeah
Hey, let me in
Let me in

I had a mind to try to stop you
Let me in, let me in
And I've got tar on my feet and I can't see all the birds
Look down and laugh at me, clumsy, crawling out of my skin

Hey, let me in
Yeah, yeah, yeah
Hey, let me in
Hey, let me in
Yeah, yeah, yeah
Hey, let me in