The Postal Service:Brand New Colony

I'll be the grapes fermented, bottled and
served with the table set in my finest suit
like a perfect gentleman.
I'll be the fire escape that's bolted to the
ancient brick where you will sit and
contemplate your day.

I'll be the waterwings that save you if you
start drowning in an open tab when your
judgment's on the brink.
I'll be the phonograph that plays your favorite
albums back as you're lying there drifting off
to sleep.
I'll be the platform shoes and undo what
heredity's done to you: you won't have to
strain to look into my eyes.
I'll be your winter coat buttoned and zipped
straight to the throat with the collar up so
you won't catch cold.

I want to take you far away from the cynics in this town
and kiss you on the mouth.
We'll cut our bodies free
from the tethers of this scene,
start a brand new colony
where everything will change,
we'll give ourselves new names,
identities erased.
The sun will heat the grounds
under our bare feet
in this brand new colony.

Everything will change...
Everything will change...