Summer Teeth - Wilco

Like a cloud his fingers explode

On the typewriter ribbon, the shadow grows

His hearts in a bowl behind the bank

And every evening when he gets home

To make his supper and eat it alone

His black shirt cries

While his shoes get cold

It’s just a dream he keeps having

And it doesn’t seem to mean anything

And it doesn’t seem to mean anything

One summer, a suicide

Another autumn, a traveler’s guide

He hits snooze twice before he dies

And every evening when he gets home

To make his supper and eat it alone

His black shirt cries

While his shoes get cold

He feels lucky to have you here

In his kitchen, in your chair

Sometimes he forgets that you’re even there