Here we sit, you'd a thought   That a bomb made of books and clothes and pocket things   Had blown in my apartment      Me and my guitar   Oh how we've gone very far   And now we're seated at the bar   To drink what she is pouring      Sometimes when she pours me to the top   I think that I might be spilling   Sometimes when I think that she won't stop   I just hope she doesn't willing      Armoured yellow pads   No. 2's and battle plans   All my maps are in my hands   But I'm still lost   Dream in colorfast   Like running past a photograph   Catch the moment if you can   Before it's gone      Sometimes when she pours me to the top   I think that I might be spilling   Sometimes when I think that she won't stop   I just hope she does it over and over