<span class="bold">The Shins – Pink Bullets</span> Cool of a temperate breeze from dark skies to wet grass
We fell in a field it seems now a thousand summers passed
When our kite lines first crossed, we tied 'em into knots
And to finally fly apart, we had to cut them off
Since then it's been a book you read in reverse
So you understand less as the pages turn
Or a movie so crass and awkwardly cast
Even I could be the star
I don't look back much as a rule
And all this way before murder was cool
But your memory is here and I'd like it to stay
Warm light on a winter day
Over the ramparts you tossed
The scent of your skin and some foreign flowers
Tied to a brick, sweet as in song
The years have seemed short but the days go slowly by
Two loose kites falling from the sky
Drawn to the ground and an end to flight