Blizzard of ’77

In blizzard of ’77
The cars were just lumps on the snow
And then later
Tripping in 7-11
The shelves were stretching out of control

On a plane ride
The more it shakes
The more I have to let go
Now the signals
Still getting all mixed up
We’re always doing damage control

But in the middle of the night
I worry
It’s blurry even without light

I know I have got a negative edge
That’s why I sharpen all the others a lot

It’s like flowers or ladybugs
Pretty weeds or red beetles with dots

(chorus)

i miss you more than i knew
(repeat)