Could be holding you tonight. Could quit doing wrong, start doing right. You don't care about what I think. I think I'll just stay here and drink. . Hey, putting you down won't square the deal.
This place with its old plantations. These roads leading out to the sea. This day full of promise and potential. More clay pigeons for you and me. . All of them, all of them.
You are sleeping off your demons. when I come home.. Spittle bubbling on your lips,. fine white foam.. I am young and I am good.. It's a hot southern California day..
Tile floor of the bathroom. Scrubbed clean and bright. Checkerboard white and grey. Towels from the Ritz-Carlton hotel in Kingston Jamaica. I can still see the rust colored stains today.
1,2,3 and. . I heard the wings beat on the wind tonight. As the heat stole power from the darkening night.. . I saw the streets fill up with people that I knew,.
Dug up a fifth of Hood River gin. That stuff tastes like medicine. But I'll take it. It'll do. . On the couch in the living room all day long. Music on the television playing our song.
[Verse 1]. The most remarkable thing about coming home to you. Is the feeling of being in motion again:. Its the most extraordinary thing in the world.
[Intro: John Darnielle]. Hello there, Paul!. I had a take and I listened to it. And I was ready to send it and I thought:. You know? It can be done better.
Bad luck comes in from Tampa. Bad luck comes in from Tampa. On the back of a truck. Doing ninety up the interstate. . We have bad dreams the night he rolls in.
Catch a lucky break try to make it last. Rig a blanket curtain up between the present and the past. Play my lucky number for most of what they're worth.
Crude little wooden idols and aviator shades. The trinkets and the treasures we brought back from the crusades. Some guy in an Impala shakes his head when he rides by.
too blinded in detroit. something must be done. jaws dropping at ring side. in the blood tide when the fireball hits. . down indiana way. make them check their guns.
Alright I'm on Johnson Avenue in San Luis Obispo. And I'm five years old or six maybe. And indications that there's something wrong with our new house trip down the wire twice daily.
The reception's gotten fuzzy.. The delicate balance has shifted.. Put on your gloves and black pumps.. Let's pretend the fog has lifted.. Now you see me, now you don't..
We stank of hair dye and ammonia.. We sealed ourselves away from view.. You were looking at the void and sat unblinking.. The best that i could do was to train my eyes on you..
This song is for the rats. Who hurled themselves into the ocean. When they saw that the explosives in the cargo hold. Were just about to blow. . This song is for the soil.
Brave young cowboys of the near north side. Mount those bridge rails. Ride all night. Scream when captured. Arch your back. Let this whole town hear your knuckles crack.
Let the camera pull back till the fullness of the frame is clear and plain. Peer into the screen until you see it all like a vision in a crystal ball.
'36 hudson in the garage,. all sorts of junk in the unattached spare room,. dishes in the kitchen sink,. new straw for the old broom,. friends who dont have a clue,.
Do every stupid thing that makes you feel alive. Do every stupid thing to try to drive the dark away. Let people call you crazy for the choices that you make.