From a Beach House - Ezra Furman

And what do we see here

Washing up on the beach in November

When nobody lives here

Because they’ve all left this beach town

For the winter

Tables and bed frames

A complete set of tarnished silver

Photographs with no names

More items are left with every crash of the grey waves

I collect it all over the course of four days

Four days

Four days alone

Hiding in a yellow beach house

Full of beetles and stones

And a silence that’s freaking me out

I broke the phone

I didn’t mean to but I broke it

The waves sigh and moan

I sit on the porch and I hope it

Don’t start to rain again

I feel muscle pain again

I wait for the main event

Which is your voice on the phone to me

Saying the operation went smoothly

And they still can’t kill us, hopefully

And you’re in the car on the road to me

With your brand new body