The Shining Hour Lyrics - Fuzzy - Grant Lee Buffalo

Are we still on the phone 

With the Lady Anna Clarke? 

And her trumpet solo 

Whose ghost sings for pay 

In the blue billiard room of the Monterey 

For room and for board 

And the back door key is a 

19th Century civil war sword 

Once owned by John Booth 

Who misplaced his script 

When he caught his leather boot 

And this could be the shining hour 

Based on all this mad belief 

In the money oil and angel powder 

In the new age magazine 

There's a hole in the wall 

Behind the photograph of Al Capone 

He's a sittin' down at city hall 

The police they peek through here 

And they watch you get dressed 

In the two-way mirror 

But it's all in good spirits 

And if you close your eyes 

You can't help, help 

But to hear 'em move 

And this could be the shining hour 

Based on all this mad belief 

In the money oil and angel powder 

In the new age magazine 

I propose a toast 

To the memory of the horse 

Who carried King Tut 

And his gold into the sun 

He collapsed last summer 

From the heat stroke 

Somewhere in the East Village 

Oh it kills me to think 

That I'm no longer living 

Just looking for excuses to drink 

So lift up your glass and you Ouija board 

'Cause I'm fading, fading 

Fading fast 

And this could be the shining hour 

Based on all those mad beliefs 

In the money oil and angel powder 

In the new age magazine