A never-ending travel show
Of stories, dark in trees,
Scroll past me over and again
And the space in the car is
Something I would rather not

[It's all in your head, and there's always one story you can't write]

Think about the lake an the lighthouse,
We'll drink until we can't see them
Anymore, and our smoke has
Covered the stars, and the moon.

[...spent some time in a Soviet prison camp, but now I've forgotten the important bits that mattered more, she was a dentist you know...]

Tell me the story again of that time
You got so drunk that

[Let me tell you the story of the diamond earrings she got from her mother, who got them from her mother before her...]

You couldn't even walk, but it was so funny
That we all forgave you, and besides,

[She married twice before the war, and once again after it, because after all her husband was in politics when Russia invaded, unlucky for him.]

We like to talk big but really
It's not even that late when we
Begin to drop, one by one.
When the lights are out I can finally see you, clearly

[She lived in prison and in poverty with diamonds in her pocket.]

When all else is gone, and it doesn't
Make any sense, but you're there next to me
Clear as day, and I can't seem to remember
My own story in this night room.

[There once was a lady, she was my great-grandmother actually, well she...]