Day Glo Chrome window Shapes in the clouds The hungry shoosh for miles around Upstream, jumpin' out of the water Gills in the air I got many people to thank But I can't write letters I can't write letters My friends on the edge of the old graveyard They sit on an old grey porch And watch foxes play And juggle wine The kind of wine that you don't mind spillin' That you don't mind spillin' Well I fill out the forms and I make my death come slowly One at a time some kind of record unrollin' 'You best begin sometime', she said, 'but you can't start until you're ready' Yet it seemed to be controlled Somehow bowed her fingernails, eyelashes and all the essential parts We talk about dreams a lot She reads our fortunes out loud I think it's funny and I go stay with her And I go stay with her And I don't mind dyin' When I make love to her To her, to her Day Glo Under a wall of sound A riverbed of clay The distance between us stays Close, but not close Far, but not too far Away Close, but not close Far, but not too far Away Day Glo