Well the night began with a Neil Young chord Lazy and lovely and bored With my ear on her belly, and my legs off the edge And I couldn't quite tell if we were still holding hands She said something about starfish and the Oregon coast Drifting and lilting, the song and her voice And she finished, I think, with a hand through my hair And I answered a kiss on the belly: I'm still there And the rain through the screen leaves innocuous tears Like the sky's doing fine it just got dust in its eye But the candle on the sill, it's sensitive still And it chokes back and flickers its sympathies And I'm trying to think of something I might want But the harvest is there in my arms And the night trickles on by itself if we want Completely complete in its own empty charms I can smell that there's still half an orange to eat And the harmonica carries a tray full of cheese But my love says Neil Young's voice is like spoiled red wine Well it's lucky, it's lucky she's so beautiful and kind