Up North there's a place for you 
To start your still-life up again 
We make our plans from spit and dust 
The sound of never and the taste of love 

They chased us through the Mission, 
We were tromping through the woods 
And the skirts of sweet Natoma 
Scared us both pretty good 

So here's to leaving it all behind: 
Fathers, lovers and an ugly wage 
We've always known what's best for us 
The sound of never and the taste of love 

I'll be lit up like the sunrise 
And you'll be Russian Blue 
Next storm that I see off the coast 
Will bring me back to you