John: oh you don't want to start like that? you want me to do the thing. Rachel: that's not how we ever start it.
Well you were standing in the door While I wondered what you were waiting for I saw the wild strawberries on the vine Out of control
Well I was trying to think of something clever You were saying nothing what'soever I saw the berries throw their hooks into the soil Felt the blood between us churning thick as motor oil
We'd come from california The air around you was familiar to me now If you were gazing westward I was looking at you again Yeah.