Andrew Hudgins - Green Inside the Door [tekst, tłumaczenie i interpretacja piosenki]

Ths summer we lived halfway underground
we watched legs scissor past, until the damp
grass grew to fill our window -- wavering,
translucent with green light. Between snarled gibes
about some guy you'd kissed, how poor we were, the rain,
we sat on the couch silently and stared
into the wettest spring I've ever seen.
Warm water seeped through the walls and drenched the carpet.
We pulled it up and found another world
had thrived in darkness beneath our feet. It spread.
Exquisite variants of green ran riot,
dappling the walls with almost turquoise spores.
On top of them, starbursts
of black-green blossomed, blackened utter black --
as if mortality crept in each night
and pressed black kisses on the paint.
We scrubbed, waited a night, and they returned.
In bed, not touching, we dreamed they covered us.

At last, we stripped the whole place empty, tossed
shoes, chairs, and knickknacks on the lawn. Our yelling
frightened the neighbors and, hell, it scared us too.
Our red hands smoldered underneath harsh soap.
We fought, and scrubbed possessions till they broke
against the bristles. We left wet shattered things
out drying in the sun, returned to almost barren rooms that reeked of bleach,
and slept still holding hands, raw burning hands
that we would not let go. Some books, some chairs,
some knickknacks all survived,
and so did we, my love, but separately.