This and "Hell in a Handbasket" are probably my favorite songs from this album. It's got the half-step thing, the Cars keyboard thing, the weird key change that doesn't take the song out of the pop realm, and it's got inscrutable lyrics with that Stephen Malkmus je ne sais quoi. It's a pop song resisting pop song conventions, but not afraid of hooks. We like to play this live; I never get tired of it. If you don't like it, if you think I'm way too pleased with myself, well, you can bite me.
I don't know why I'm tired,
Possibly I'm nervous about a girl that heard us play
The song about that time
You were into race cars, comic books, her pockmarked thighs.
I found my father's gun
Underneath his Hustler magazines and tin foil pipes,
Our day had finally come,
What a waste of time!
She was sweet and pale, a chopstick through her hair,
Shaking out the static from her velvet dress,
Wooden chairs and half moons spilled across her legs.
Let's just be cautious,
I never thought I'd last this long, I never thought I'd make it.
She could fit a cue ball inside her mouth and whistle, thereby demonstrating everything:
Her backward logic, hatred, lovesick, and painful headtrip...
I checked the pilot light,
It's out; we're in for one cold night,
I must admit, I'm terrified
Of spiders, shadows, bloodshot eyes.
from Decline of Day,
released October 23, 2001
Music: Greg Giles, Joe Ostrowski
Lyrics: Greg Giles