Tindersticks (with Ann Magnusson) - Buried Bones from Curtains (1997) /chamber pop/
((“Turn around and it’s winter, darling.Look in the mirror and it won’t be you.So you’re an old, old dog,you’ve been around the blockSo many timesand it’s the same old turns,same old feelings straight down the line.Yeah, I can love you.Grab that leash and drag you to a place you’d never know.I know where my bones are buried,may take me a while, but I’d find my way home.”
A smooth hand slinking over red satin curtains draws them back to let the world inside. A breath catches across the glass and slips down to the sill. Air is flushed with a supple heat. Streetlamps whisper past the passage of late night old returns. Eyes tracked toward eachother follow to patterns of sun and frost on hand in hand skin. Turning delicately to the right.))

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