Up North there's a place for you
To start your still-life up again
We make our plans from spit and dust
The sound of never and the taste of love
They chased us through the Mission,
We were tromping through the woods
And the skirts of sweet Natoma
Scared us both pretty good
So here's to leaving it all behind:
Fathers, lovers and an ugly wage
We've always known what's best for us
The sound of never and the taste of love
I'll be lit up like the sunrise
And you'll be Russian Blue
Next storm that I see off the coast
Will bring me back to you
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