I was hungover when I asked you out,
I was hungover on our first date too,
I was hungover when I lied in bed and watched American Beauty with you.
And I wish I could explain why I smile when we kiss,
Or when I am away from you it’s your cold hands I’d miss.
Your kisses taste like West Coast and mine taste like gasoline,
and if that is alright with you then that's just fine by me.
I’m sorry for every Friday afternoon,
when you look at the clock and say “I must be leaving soon”,
and I look at you and I ask you to stay,
I know you hate it but I do it anyway.
And I hope you know that I love you,
I’ll show you anyway I can,
it’s not just singing songs for you,
it’s trying to be a better man.
And I wish I could explain why I smile when we kiss,
or when I am away from you it’s your cold hands I’d miss.
Your kisses taste like West Coast and mine taste like gasoline,
and if that is alright with then that's just fine by me.
And when I hold you I want to keep you warm,
I want you to know you're not alone,
And all I ever want to see, is brown eyes staring back at me.
supported by 13 fans who also own “Cold Hands, Brown Eyes”
I bought the physical copy of this demo, #2/50, the night before All Tomorrow's Shoeys. I bought it again almost two years later when Jen was in a bind. In between those purchases I bought it on vinyl from Craigos. What I'm trying to say is that I've bought this fucking thing three times now and I'd probably buy it again, so you know it's good, aye! Nick