Typewriter

Down by the shoreline: a lady at rest
Dreams of a man who could never underestimate her
And smoking a cigarette and biding his time,
A man dreams up some girl who'd never tell a lie

God, it's so easy to waste the day
Hiding from things you'll never say
Bottled and broken in disarray
So follow me this way

A typewriter clicks in the dust of a room
And ghost-like she sits there surrounded by you...in paper
A letter is written but never gets sent
It sleeps in the drawer there with all of her things meant...for later

God, it's so easy to waste the day
Hiding from things you'll never say
Bottled and broken in disarray
So follow me this way

Down by the shoreline he swallows his pride,
Calls for his lover to come back to his side, and he bathes her.
She begs for a moment to take it all in,
Then throws her head back and smiles up at him, and he tastes her.