The Microphones — Wires and Cords

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Once in a while I wake up
I step all around the pieces on the floor,
Wires and cords, and records, and tapes
Left over from a party last night I had all by myself
Every single bit of it, left on a tape I made
And I’ll find it one day washed out in your bed
We’ll be holding hands with nothing in the air

We’ll have our own wires and cords, and I’ll hear what you say
Then you’ll hear me too, every single month that I spend with you
I’ll put on a tape to find one day and cut it into (*?)
And get some nice headphones
I walk around the town I live, listening to you
You me and about the way we used to fight

I’ll find a tape that I made of you and walk around listening to
Your voice in headphones and that will be the gem of our relationship
I’ll hear what you say
And you’ll hear me too