There's a kind of music that reminds me of you

It's all clear expensive drinks and shiny shirts

And the click of heels as they descend from the taxi

Like the first foot on the moon, oh, and it glows with ache

And if it hits me right it's almost too much to take

And it's got right angle razor thin lines

That turn and swerve like perfect sines

As we dress to the nines in an

Attempt to leave it all behind

In a search of the moment between the seconds where

Everything is just fine

That silver thread imbedded deep within our spines

And I used to be kind of weird about this

A fear of dependence on a guilty gilt-edged

Hedged transcendence that makes us lairs

And tense when we look down and realize

That nothing really suspends us

But it was never just another Saturday night

Not with you in attendance

So throw your hands in the air

And wave them like you just don't care

It's on a whim; it's on a dare

To shrug away what we can't bear

And we're going back and forth

And back and forth and back and forth and back

We're going back and forth

And back and forth and back and forth and back

And it's a deep blue see-through membrane that protects us

It connects us, a pulsing cellophane

Party-train skein that helps us and

Envelopes and keeps us locked inside

Forever and ever along for the ride

And we're moving through a phosphorescent gel

A semi-solid self-lit ocean and it's a funny notion, isn't it?

Yeah, but I'm kinda digging it

And it's rigged and isn't nearly so big

And it speaks only of its own

Perpetual near miss

Like the uncertain memory

Of a stranger's mistaken kiss

And faces slide by in gl