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| Liz Phair Exile In Guyville Stratford On Guy I was flying into Chicago at night Watching the lake turn the sky into blue-green smoke The sun was setting to the left of the plane And the cabin was filled with an unearthly glow In 27-D, I was behind the wing Watching landscape roll out like credits on a screen The earth looked like it was lit from within Like a poorly assembled electrical ball As we moved out of the farmlands into the grid The plan of a city was all that you saw And all of these people sitting totally still As the ground raced beneath them, thirty-thousand feet down It took an hour, maybe a day But once I really listened the noise just fell away And I was pretending that I was in a Galaxie 500 video The stewardess came back and checked on my drink In the last strings of sunlight, a Brigitte Bardot As I had on my headphones Along with those eyes that you get When your circumstance is movie-size It took an hour, maybe a day But once I really listened the noise just fell away It took an hour, maybe a day But once I really listened the noise just fell away But once I really listened the noise just fell away |
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