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