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The Clientele
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Three Month Summers
Three month summers
In the haunted suburbs pass
Your tea leaves in your glass
You think you're Paul Verlaine
Helen in the Rhododendrons
Stole your clothes
I lost myself, I vanished in
A brief ecstatic rain
Autumn round the corner
With its eeriness
Someone's smoking in a hatchback
Screwing on your lawn
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Late that year I caught a glimpse
Inside the trees
I cannot tell you what I saw
I was somebody else
As I sing, the night is clear
The swallows fly in from nowhere
From nowhere
I never saw them before
I never saw them before
I never saw them before
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