It throbs, it throbs
The sound of a boy
Running around
In a flannel shirt

A frightened man
Simple life
Simple men
A bonfire of drugs

They both come
From Seattle
Trying to feel guilty
For living, for messing up

Oh, sacred heart
Oh, pure life
Let's go to Seattle
In the nineties

I've got no patience
What a terrible time
They both come
From Seattle

I don't have five days
In April, that could kill me
With sadness more than these
I'm scared

Let's go to Seattle
In the nineties
Just to have some fun
And play something

Maybe the apartment
Faces the Sun
And the old guitars
Both in Seattle