The Bell Beat

The Crack Of His Door
Driving for hours, down the interstateWe reached the top peninsula.At a castle of rock,The stairs reached up for hours.An 8-year-old curled up with his pillowLooking through the crack of his door.His mom tilts her head back with a fingernail to her noseShe sniffs it up then does some more.As I leaned against the railingI pictured falling to the pines below.If only Paul and Babe would share their plots with my child frame.I leaned in but my shirt was hitchedIt stretched taught around my neck and chest.A distant breeze on my back.I leaned in but my shirt was hitchedAnd the view was spectacular.An 8-year-old curled up with his pillowLooking through the crack of his door.His mom tilts her head back with a fingernail to her noseShe sniffs it up then does some more. Aus Songtexte Mania