Sacrifice Of The Bass Line From That One Pixies Song

Ba[1] da[2] da[3] dun[4] dun[5] da[6] da[7] dun[8] dun[9] du[10] du[11] da[12] du[13] da[14] da.[15]

[1] All the way to Boston by back roads with the same CD stuck in the rental car, our voices start to give out after a time.
[2] My hand grows sweaty, and after lunch there is probably a little honey mustard somewhere in it, so for this I am sorry.
[3] You talk to the man behind the counter in Spanish, which was a surprise to me, but I recognize the lisp on “mayonesa,” you couldn’t stand it.
[4] We are very lost as soon as we left the turnpike but you smile with a poppy seed in your teeth and refuse to admit it, turning up the volume.
[5] I play along, naming the towns we were passing as if they were familiar, pointing at a courthouse or a fire hydrant and saying, “Oh, remember?”
[6] You had insisted on driving, I think, just to wear those sunglasses and float your arm out the window like a pilot.
[7] We have forgotten a couple things at home and are better off without them, don’t you think?
[8] A lost coil of hair makes its way out the window, and you don’t notice for nine miles.
[9] Your left arm is just a little redder than the right already.
[10] When it gets dark we pull over to hear the crickets just beyond the guardrail.
[11] Every time the chorus kicks in I can count on you to tap it out on the steering wheel.
[12] They must have just paved this road, I feel that if we fell asleep it would forgive.
[13] Our cigarette butts dance out holy orgies in the rearview mirror.
[14] I have never seen brighter brights.
[15] My ears pop when you are changing lanes.