I've grown rather tired of our little game.
You ask me the question.
My answer's the same.
And I couldn't say the day or the year.
But it must be summer, 'cause there's flies in here.
I need water.
I need water.
Ants on the window ledge caught my attention.
And I wanted to say so, but I was to tired to mention it.
And we crawled in bed, and melted together.
Cursing each other.
Cursing the weather.
And I need water.
I need water.
Writer(s): John S Darnielle
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