"Going To Bangor" lyrics - THE MOUNTAIN GOATS

THE MOUNTAIN GOATS
"Going To Bangor"

The ocean wind cold on our lips
Wild fern growing, sinking ships
All the signs are easy to read

In the morning you come my way
Your skin is pink, the sky is gray
There's fresh cranberries in your mouth
With thick red water dripping out
You expect me to believe everything you say
Well, okay