THE NEW PORNOGRAPHERS – LETTER FROM AN OCCUPANT

I’m told the eventual downfall is just a bill from the restaurant.
You told me I could order the moon, babe, just as long as I shoot what I want.
What the last ten minutes have taught me, bet the hand that your money’s on.
Where the hell have the ’70s brought me, you trade me away long gone.

For the love of a god, you said, not a letter from an occupant.

The time that your enemy gives you, good times are not the ones you want.
I’ve cried five rivers on the way here. Which one will you skate away on?
The tune you’ll be humming forever, all the words are replaced and wrong,
With a shower of ‘yeahs’ and ‘whatevers’, you trade me away long gone.

For the love of a god, you said, not a letter from an occupant.

Where have all sensations gone?

For the love of a god, you said, not a letter from an occupant.
For the love of a god, you said, not a letter from an occupant.
For the love of a god, you said, not a letter from an occupant.

The song, the song, the song that’s shaking me.
The song, the song, the song that’s shaking me.
The song, the song, the song that’s shaking me.
The song, the song, the song that’s shaking me.

For the love of a god, you said, not a letter from an occupant.
For the love of a god, you said, not a letter from an occupant.