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Both blue girls
Wearing their halos
Holding hands
All the way down my street
Talking about Baudelaire
How you gotta be drunk on something
And they talk about Verlaine
How his guitar sounds so beautiful
And I'm stuck inside
I feel like Rheticus
Trying to get these words down
But they aren't looking right at all
Polaroids fill my shelves
Just trees and sky
A totally deserted world
And if you want my diary
It's by the door
Between the headphones
And the Commodore 64
It's just blank pages
And some old numbers
You can fill it up
With your thoughts on where I've gone wrong
I can't stop thinking about aeroplanes
I can't stop thinking about Singapore
I can't stop thinking about Jesus Christ
I can't stop thinking about anything
Both blue girls
They're wearing their halos
And they're holding hands
All the way down my street