We laughed all night to British sitcoms
And glanced away as we had brushed arms.
Where, oh where, are these lonely limbs meant to stay?

Talked about the old gang like they're all gone
What schools they're at or where they got jobs
I'm so glad now that I never moved away.

Conversation reaches twilight, the picture we paint
Of what I may to be inclined to call our first date.

Eating all your food with generic brand names
Giggling straight through every commerical break
A better soundtrack to add to all the shows.

The brainless scenesters, I've met them all
An army of bangs in the VFW halls
From now on, she's the only anything I want to know.

An angel reading Zinn, she's punk rock wrapped in lace.
Lisa Loeb and Black Canary combined with West Side Story grace.

We're staring at our hands
Wondering where they're supposed to rest.
So come a little bit closer, feel the suspense.
The space in this room, this couch, between us is infinite.
I've run out of all my clever lines.
But I've never been speechless before tonight.
Slacker Maria.
Slacker Maria.

The next Thursday, the river sparkled underneath the petals of a rose
And I couldn't resist pushing you in
You scoffed,
You smiled,
You tossed your hair back.
I love the way you always love to laugh.

In the cinemas with those B's that no one but us like to see,
All the wrong shots in the wrong places,
Faces on a screen,
Not like you, my beauty queen,
As we clench each other in redemption in my backseat.

I'm staring at my hands
They belong right in yours, for you to always hold.
I don't tend to smoke, and neither do you
Even when you reek of cigarettes you taste like gold.
I've run out of all my clever lines
But I guess before now I never really felt alive.
Slacker Maria.
Slacker Maria.