Hannah Hunt

A gardener told me some plants move
But I could not believe it
Til me and Hannah Hunt
Saw crawling vines and weeping willows
As we made our way from Providence to Phoenix

A man of faith said hidden eyes
Could see what I was thinking
But I just smiled and told him
That was only true of Hannah
And we glided on through Waverly and Lincoln

Our days were long
Our nights no longer
Counting seconds
Watching hours
Though we live on the US Dollar
You and me, we’ve got our own sense of time

In Santa Barbara, Hannah cried,
“I miss those freezing beaches”
I walked into town to buy some kindling for the fire
Hannah tore the New York Times up into pieces

If I can’t trust you then damn it, Hannah
There’s no future
There’s no answer
Though we live on the US Dollar
You and me, we’ve got our own sense of time

Music by Ezra Koenig, Rostam Batmanglij, Chris Tomson and Chris Baio / Lyrics by Ezra Koenig / Produced by Rostam Batmanglij and Ariel Rechtshaid