An ode to a disappearing friend, as well as the unstoppable process of aging and the stoppable process of settling.
lyrics
oh you've been to maine
and oh you've been to chicago.
and once i saw your face in a bus stop in cleveland.
but i don't know where you are these days.
i don't know where you are.
i don't know where you are these days.
i don't know where you are.
maybe you're swimming in the ocean playing your viola
or you moved up to the mountains with a bunch of friendly anarchists.
i don't know where you are these days.
i don't know where you are.
maybe it almost kinda sorta just about almost works out
that some people settle down
and other people disappear.
and maybe they're swimming in the ocean playing their viola
or they moved up to the mountains with a bunch of friendly anarchists.
bought a one way ticket out to rural california
where they off the grid and they bake their own bread.
but i don't know where you are these days.
i don't know where you are.
i don't know where you are these days.
i don't know where you are.