Places Places We move in and out of watching Faces Float around the hotel lobby like Fishes They're all blowing air We know it must mean something But we just stare
We stood On Primrose Hill like statues we were So good Walked along the locks and into Camden
Tried on silver shoes And orange plastic jackets
Places We move in and out of fast as Hail stones Make jokes hey isn't that the the word for our Tombstones So that everyone will know When they're out one afternoon Stop to read the stones