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Living North
Cymbals Eat Guitars
Why There Are Mountains
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I met the first guy
Who said I'll always remember this night, Jane
When I brought cigarettes home on a whim
It was really him
And all of us other guys
Who've said it since then
Well we've been trying to mean it as sincerely as he did

There is a metal divide
Between myself and this lake in New Jersey
Silver seaweed hands reach up and grab
A woman walking dog pulled in
Never heard from again
Focus on shining tension
We're striders on the surface
Of striders on the surface

I found a dog's leash on the shores of the Pacific
It means nothing to me
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