God bless the day-light, the sug-ar-y smell of spring-time, re-mem-ber-ing when you were mine, in a still sub-urb-an town
When ev-ery Thurs-day I'd brave those moun-tain pass-es, and you'd skip your ear-ly class-es, and we'd learn how our bod-ies worked
God damn the black night, with all of its foul tempt-a-tions, I've be-come what I al-ways hat-ed when I was with you then
We looked like gi-ants in the back of my grey sub-comp-act, fum-bl-ing to make con-tact as the ot-hers slept in-side
And to-geth-er there, in a shroud of frost, the moun-tain air be-gan to pass through ev-ery pane of weath-ered glass,
And I held you clos-er- than an-y-one would ev-er guess
Do you re-mem-ber the J-A-M-C?
And read-ing a-loud from ma-ga-zines?
I don't know a-
bout you but I swear on my name they could smell it on me
I've ne-ver been too good with se-crets
No...----
And to-geth-er there- in a shroud of frost, the moun-tain air beg-an to pass- through ev-ery pane of weath-ered glass
And I held you clos-er--
