1, 2... 1, 2, 3, 4 



John: oh you don't want to start like that? you want me to do the thing. 

Rachel: that's not how we ever start it. 



well you were standing in the door 

while I wondered what you were waiting for 

I saw the wild strawberries on the vine 

out of control 



well I was trying to think of something clever 

you were saying nothing whatsoever 

I saw the berries throw their hooks into the soil 

felt the blood between us churning thick as motor oil 



we'd come from california 

the air around you was familiar to me now 

if you were gazing westward 

I was looking at you again 

yeah.