The Soft Engine and the Wrecked Guitar

Wearing shoes of vinyl Smoking an exhausted cigarette She's touching me Like an inspiring wind I read to her A ragged poem Of a tantalizing mind Beneath long red Laughing hair Underneath a purple sky Starting her Soft Engine with my Wrecked Guitar Yeah and I play She turns and looks at me With her micro brewed smile And I stare back at her primitive freckles She hands me a shot of jagged whiskey Telling me about the toilet astronaut That used to be her boyfriend Underneath a purple sky Starting her Soft Engine with my Wrecked Guitar Yeah and I play Her story melts my heart Like tortured plastic Upon a porch of glass She sits on a couch Made of bricks I take her hand And lead her to the fields Made of cologne And under the moon She reveals her sensual sign Underneath a purple sky Starting her Soft Engine with my Wrecked Guitar Yeah and I play