Some Swedish Trees

Well, you were standing in the door

Well, I wondered what you were waiting for

I saw the wild strawberries on the vine

Out of control

Well, I was trying to think of something clever

You were saying nothing whatsoever

I saw the berries throw their hooks into the soil

Felt the blood between us turning black as motor oil

We come from California

The air around you was familiar to me now

You were gazing westward

I was looking at you again