The last time that i came here 

I came down with a fever 

The next day it was gone 

With the suddenness of ist arrival 

When we all were much younger 

Were we really different 

In the really real world we knew 


Last night i saw the sun rise 

Over sleepy barcelona 

Riding on a bus 

With the road crew from embrace 

While everyone was sleeping 

I noticed a reflection 

And saw the egg upon my face 


The last thing i remember 

About waking up in kristiansand 

Was gagging on my toothbrush 

As it brushed across my tongue 

And removed a drunken sailor 

Paid his bar and porno bill 

Gonna have to fuckin' hose him down 


The clarity is blinding 

Where's the befuddled middleman 

The gentle goofus 

With his comedy and wit 

Spaced out in the crowd 

With the cramped and the cluttered 

Falls from your fingers to his hand 

Falls from his fingers to your hand 


The old matchbook trick 

Keeps the table from wobble 

Slipped under the short leg 

Steadies the unsteadiness 

Of the lopsided conversation 

Makes a solid place to rest 

Arms and thought upon