Well, you were standing in the door
Well, I wondered what you were waiting for
I saw the wild strawberries on the vine
Out of control

Well, I was trying to think of something clever
You were saying nothing whatsoever
I saw the berries throw their hooks into the soil
Felt the blood between us turning black as motor oil

 [bad word] from California
The air around you was familiar to me now
You were gazing westward
I was looking at you again