editing parts to create new stories

for Tanu


A Girl In Port

Let fall your soft and swaying skirt.Let fall your shoes.
She lay on the lawn, spun and alone.
And when the morning sun rose upon her lacy clothes,it lit her up, and she walked around the winding streets of Camden Town.
She doesn't know who she wants to be, and if I knew, I'd tell her.
Up in her room the records spin, needle in the grooves that she has worn thin.
She lifts a sleeve and sees a name, and she's got a smile on her face, and she's got a story you can't see.
And before she makes her way over the sea, she's telling me,inside her car, driving us back from the Crystal Corner Bar,"I'm not sailing just for sport,I've come to feel, out on the sea,these urgent lives press against me.I'm a part, with my tender hands,with my easy heart.Pour yourself into me."
Let fall your soft and swaying skirt.Let fall your shoes.


And now, Okkervil River can shoot me if he must,but that is the way I feel.I will sing it like this any day.