I met her at the moonbase
We went for a passport picture
She told me how her dad died
She kept his bass in the basement

And her friends at the bar were all drunk with compassion
She shrunk when they wrapped arms around and slapped hands to bare shoulder blades
Prayed some pedestrian gravity might pull hard at the end of her cigarette
It was awkward in the car; it was easy in the bathroom
It was true love in Denver; we were licking up the crumbs
We were terrible dealers peddling head for favors
In the pre-dawn blue forever

Ah, ah
Ah
Ah, ah

She was a big red bike and a lace-white dress
And black canvas boots laced to the last eyelet
On Columbus Boulevard
With little brown spots of spent rain swept up from the bright, black street
There were books on tray tables in airliner cabins
Platitudes spilled onto petulant napkins
All piled with good luck under an old truck-stop sign
Where I caught a glimpse of your spirit through mine

Where I caught a glimpse of your spirit through mine
All piled with good luck under an old truck-stop sign
Where I caught a glimpse of your spirit through mine

Ah, ah
Ooh, ooh
Ah, ah
Ah, ah
Ooh, ooh
Ah, ah