Long car rides through the corn. Leave me angry and torn. And my lap covered in ashes. I drive through small towns. With my windows down. Dreaming of fatal car crashes. Somehow I can't decide what to do with the night. Cursing at…

The text on this track comes off a B-side from one of [Putnam Aldrich's](http://fr.wikipedia.org/wiki/Putnam_Aldrich) (my great-grandfather) records. He was a harpsichordist, a professor at Stanford, a chain smoker, and apparently had a sense…