Light Breathing - The Lawrence Arms

Me and Martha Plimpton in an elevator,

Her golden Labrador kissed my index finger.

Two in the morning, summer saturated,

I’d been drinking and it’d been raining

And it felt so strange

Cuz I didn’t know what to say,

And when she smiled I turned away.

But that’s so like me, timid self conscious crippling

She seemed so friendly and I must’ve seemed uninteresting.

Soaked from walking and smelled like boozed and cigarettes,

I stood there listening to hear light breathing

And I wanted to say that I really loved her films

And I wanted to make her laugh and smile

But I stood still.

I managed to mutter «hello,»

Her eyes shining in the fancy elevator lights.

I stood awkwardly hands fluttering

The doors parted and she said goodnight to me

And her voice was like a song that wouldn’t leave my head

And I thought Martha I’m running on empty.

And I couldn’t help but think

I’d missed another chance to live,

But isn’t that the way it always is?

The way it always is…