Текст песни Irma

Irma waits by the window,
Vaguely looking down at her socks
And humming
Possibly her father will come home with a box
Of chocolates
Possibly not
Father's memory was never what it once was
Shouldn't really drive anymore
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As if in answer,
With a sound like blowing up your
Ears, father's jeep crashes
Through Irma's wall
She says
Bad words as several hundred
Boxes of her favorite kind
Of chocolate fill her bedroom.
But she doesn't actually mind