Lyrics

Connecticut Avenue feels like a radio dream, the Taft Bridge has no agenda
when portraits of our presidents, were portraits of a Saturday
the lions on the bridge, directing us home

Comfortably cautious, cautiously uncomfortable, when making waves is for the horizon,
a sounding board in a sweatshirt, our Sundays in solitude
in a marble city, building a home

Waving like an error semaphore
Frantically under control
I'll love you as the waves crash about
I'll love you when they settle down

bus trips with all of our belongings, resignation letters bound
to hoping it could be better, to stepping off solid ground
to Avenue B, in the snow

Late nights in dark rooms screaming at something, Sidewalks robbed me blind and saved my life
a certain way of walking, the art form of New York
to five flights of stairs, leading us home

How I've noted the way, that the sun moves through our room
and how all these little moments, are the big moments too
and how one day next year, they'll be flowers in your hair
and we'll say all those things, that the state needs to hear