stevens' room

there was an old tube radio up on the shelf in stevens' room

we listened to the underground high upon ourselves in stevens' room

we looked in the mirror and stared

we carefully combed our long hair

goin' nowhere

in stevens' room

we analyzed love and courted disaster in stevens' room

writing songs upside down on a lefty telecaster in stevens' room

we plotted and planned and dreamed of a band

like ashes and sand

in stevens' room

there was nothin' to do but hang around in stevens' room

hypnotized by a scene, entranced by a sound in stevens' room

dulling our senses, sharpening our wit

free of the past, the future infinite

in stevens' room

silent ghosts escaped into a darkened nite from stevens' room

naked and desperate, afraid of the light from stevens' room

old men mumble to the wall

through with it all

no one recalls stevens' room