Night Raid

There's a picture of Jesus lying in his mother's arms Shuttered windows, cars humming on the street below The fountain throbbed in the lobby of the Grand Hotel We checked into room thirty-three, well, well, well, well You were a runaway flake of snow You were skinny and white as a wafer, yeah, I know Sitting on the edge of the bed clicking your shoes I slid my little songs out from under you And we all rose from our wonder We would never admit defeat And we leaned out of the window As the rain fell on the street, on the street They were just a sigh released from a dying star They were runaway flakes of snow, yeah, I know They annexed your insides in a late night raid We sent down for drinks and something to eat The cars humming in the rain on the street below A fountain throbs in the lobby of the Grand Hotel The spurting font of creativity, yeah, I know Your head in a pool of your own streaming hair And Jesus lying in his mother's arms Just so, all up on the wall, just so And we all rose up from our wonder We would never admit defeat And we leaned out of the window And watched the horses in the street, in the street In room thirty-three, yeah Yeah, I know