Brand New Colony
by The Postal Service

I'll be the grapes fermented, bottled and
served with the table set in my finest suit
like a perfect gentleman.
I'll be the fire escape that's bolted to the
ancient brick where you will sit
and contemplate your day.

I'll be the waterwings that save you if you
start drowning in an open tab when your
judgement's on the brink.
I'll be the phonograph that plays your favorite
albums back as you're lying there, drifting off
to sleep... drifting off to sleep...

I'll be your platform shoes; undo what heredity's done to you:
you won't have to strain to look into my eyes.
I'll be your winter coat buttoned and zipped
straight to the throat with the collar up so
you won't catch a cold.

I want to take you far from the cynics in this town
and kiss you on the mouth.
We'll cut our bodies free from the tethers of
this scene, start a brand new colony.
Where everything will change, we'll give
ourselves new names. Identities erased.
The sun will heat the grounds, under our bare
feet in this brand new colony.
Brand new colony...

Everything will change, Ooo ooo...
Everything will change, Ooo ooo...
Everything will change, Ooo ooo...