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Intro Eb Ab Eb Ab Eb Ab Eb It was backstage in Moscow late one night Ab Eb Ab Eb We shared a cigarette, a kiss goodbye Cm Bb Ab Eb Her name was Cayenne, so young and soft Cm Bb Ab Eb Her hands trembled badly, her eyes trailed off Cm Bb Ab Eb To bottles and objects around the room Cm Bb Ab Eb My backup guitar, a tray of food Ab Eb Ab Eb We didn't have very much to say Ab Eb Ab Eb She said that she'd come from some other place Cm Bb Ab Eb A town called Troyskirt, maybe Troysworth Cm Bb Ab Eb I was pretty distracted packing my stuff Cm Bb Ab Eb But I did make a point to ask her to stay Cm Bb Ab Eb But she said she had friends that she had to go see Ab Eb Ab Eb Later that summer I picked up my mail Ab Eb Ab Eb She sent me a letter with a touching detail Cm Bb Ab Eb 'I used up my minutes calling hotels Cm Bb Ab Eb To find you that night but to no avail' Cm Bb Ab Eb 'I know it's pathetic,' she continued to write, Cm Bb Ab Eb 'But that was the greatest night of my life.'
Written by Mark Kozelek
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