Wipers

Bill Callahan in the van

Cutting through the car park

Kids doing handstands on the bandstand

Why'd you never talk?

Hey, shut the windscreen wipers off

It's stopped raining

Seeing ourselves wet reflected

On shop windows of pasted pages

Your pale eyes see better in the—

Your pale eyes see better in the—

Blistered silence seeping, winter woolens scratching skin

Rusted old pavement grate

That pigeon's still rotting in

Outside, the mischief stopped as a hearse went by

Black tie flowers spell out lots of love

With kisses and goodbye

My heart breaks for you

Well, I know mine does too

Not in a bad way

Baby, you gotta try and push through

Your pale eyes see better in the—

Your pale eyes see better in the—

Your pale eyes see better in the—

Your pale eyes see better in the dark