Port Of Morrow - The Shins

Through the rain

And all the clatter,

Under the Freemont bridge,

I saw a pigeon fly,

Fly in fear

From a raptor

Come to take its life.

Does it closed

And for the captured,

I funnel the fear through my ancient eyes.

See in flight

Where I know all the bitter mechanics of life.

Under my hat,

It breathes,

The lines are all imagined.

A fact of life

I know

To hide from my little girls.

I know my place amongst

The bugs and all the animals.

And it’s from these ordinary people

You were longing to be free.

In my hotel,

And on the TV,

A pitcher on the stage

Like a buzzard cries

Out a warning,

A phony sorrow.

He’s trying to get a rise.

Sign of life

Of an almot.

Let him look at your hands,

Get the angles right.

Ace of spades,

Port of Morrow,

Life is death

Is life.

I saw a photograph

Of Cologne in ’27,

And then a postcard after the bombs in ’45.

Must have been a world of evil clowns

That let it happen.

But now I recognize,

Dear,

In these eyes,

That you were there

And so was I.

Under my hat, I know

The lines are allimagined.

A fact of life,

I must impress my little girls.

I know my place amongst

The creatures

In the pageant.

And there are flowers

In the garbage,

And a skull

Under your curls.