Grace
I think I met you on the seventeenth floor
When I stood on Margot's window sill
Or maybe it was in the Crimean war
When I lost my middle finger
I really don't love you
It just looks that way
Radio lover meets serial killer
He says it's inevitable
She says call me Grace
I think I met you on the mental ward
You watched me juggle my life
Or maybe it was in some naphthalene story
Roman candles and wine
I think I met you on death row
Somewhere in Louisiana
Or maybe it was at Heathrow
You were flying to Cancun
I think I met you at Graceland National
I was the one torching the bike
Or maybe it was at the abattoir
I was the one with the knife
Graça
Acho que te encontrei no décimo sétimo andar
Quando eu estava na janela da Margot
Ou talvez tenha sido na guerra da Crimeia
Quando perdi meu dedo do meio
Eu realmente não te amo
Só parece assim
Amor de rádio encontra serial killer
Ele diz que é inevitável
Ela diz me chame de Graça
Acho que te encontrei na ala psiquiátrica
Você me viu malabarizar minha vida
Ou talvez tenha sido em alguma história de naftalina
Foguetes romanos e vinho
Acho que te encontrei no corredor da morte
Em algum lugar na Louisiana
Ou talvez tenha sido em Heathrow
Você estava voando para Cancun
Acho que te encontrei em Graceland Nacional
Eu era quem estava queimando a bike
Ou talvez tenha sido no matadouro
Eu era quem estava com a faca