His goal in life was to be an echo
Riding alone, town after town, toll after toll
A fixed bayonet through the great southwest to forget her
She appears in his dreams
But in his car and in his arms
A dream can mean anything
A cheap sunset on a television set can upset her
But he never could
Remember to remember me
Standing still in your past
Floating fast like a hummingbird
His goal in life was to be an echo
The type of sound that floats around and then back down
Like a feather
But in the deep chrome canyons of the loudest Manhattans
No one could hear him
Or anything
So he slept on a mountain
In a sleeping bag underneath the stars
He would lie awake and count them
And the gray fountain spray of the great Milky Way
Would never let him
Die alone
Remember to remember me
Standing still in your past
Floating fast like a hummingbird
Remember to remember me
Standing still in your past
Floating fast like a hummingbird
A hummingbird
A hummingbird
*Recomenació musical del dia. La trobareu a "A ghost is born" de Wilco
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