Between Pacific Coasts

Down the lane, I breathe out loud in half frozen air

And the black amnesias in heaven are lighting a half moon on the stairs

Down the lane and I bite my lip when I breathe out loud

Wrapped in Japanese paper all the way aroundAnd California can't see the sun rise

Smoke doesn't climb like it lingers

And California can't see the sun rise

Smoke doesn't climb like it lingers

And CaliforniaRuns long on a broken, broken lung

Runs longI breathe out loud in half frozen air

I bite my lip when I breathe out loud

I bite my lip when I breathe out loud, loud, loud, loud, loud