Golden Week Video (MV)

By the middle of morning we've said our goodbyes
And I've washed the wine from the water glasses
And picking the porridge off both of the bowls
That you bought for me fresh from the flight
In the movement between the sponge and the steam
Mostly I reach for the knife
When the father and son meet the century's eye
And the Cyndaquil toy in the boy's little hand
Seems to dance to the beat of the station's theme song
I'm asleep on the Hanzomon line
If I look at myself, twenty-seven or twelve
Fire was ever my type
Entranced since my grandparents gave me my Gameboy Advance
It's been three weeks since leaving my mom at the gate
And I'm never quite sure if I'll see her again
Cause her heart attack plays on a loop in my core
And the tears that I wore on my face
But the angels did speak at the Costa Coffee
Hun, everything turns out okay
On the train to Yoyogi, a new friend to meet
In Golden Week
Tokyo streets become very steep
In the museums and galleries
Salarypeople and salaries
Redeploy
Dogs wearing diapers and corduroys
Sitting in strollers like baby toys
Swallowed in sweaters in summer heat
Tom says it's typical Yoyogi
In Golden Week
By the middle of morning I've written a song
And, singing along, found a home for my fears
In the outlet that unlike the ones in Japan
Holds steady and strong to the wall
In the minute between the day and the dream
Mostly I don't dream at all