歌詞

The old fan clears its metal throat

And starts its slow hello

It turns to me, it turns away

Polite as fans can be

It lifts the corners of my list

And sets the ribbons free

A lazy river made of air

Is running through the room

He makes the winds His messengers

Even the plug-in kind

It hums a note it learned in June

And cools me down to kind

The papers flutter, pinned by cups

The curtain plays along

The fan and I agree on this:

The afternoon's a song

He makes the winds His messengers

Even the plug-in kind

It hums a note it learned in June

And cools me down to kind

Mmm... mmm... mmm

He makes the winds His messengers

Even the plug-in kind

It hums a note it learned in June

And cools me down to kind

The old fan nods, I nod right back

We'll keep each other cool