| I love this fucking country
|
| And she loved me more than I could imagine
|
| So I waited till she slept then I stepped into traffic
|
| Ran away from the backyard to drift some more
|
| Woke up in Texas next to a liquor store
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| With a woman who don’t even drink alcohol
|
| Big letters IRONY tagged on the wall
|
| She was named for another flat land
|
| We had it strong back then
|
| In common we had a bond
|
| That would never see the break of dawn
|
| To damn afraid of the queen trying to take the pawn
|
| Threw that away
|
| Yes, yes headed out west
|
| And got undressed
|
| With the nurture that she gave me made me drip and get obsessed
|
| There was a lady in Los Angeles
|
| That handled this the way the manual suggest (the way the manual suggest)
|
| She turned me on to music that I never heard before
|
| She told me stories from a cup I haven’t learned to pour
|
| And I don’t know what hurt it more
|
| Professional journals or perpetual burn holes
|
| Scarring up the dirty floor
|
| Peace! |
| Found a hollow hole in the Colorado snow
|
| It’s like I follow anywhere El Diablo go
|
| Took a stroll with a feline
|
| And sat silent while the snowflakes fell into the design
|
| Can’t let her dance up on the top floor
|
| Been there done that what do you think it’s locked for?
|
| I’ve lost more to my traveling soul
|
| Then I care to talk about so I’ll be out, I’ll be on the road
|
| Down, down, down in Gainesville
|
| No stranger to shame, Coltrane, and pain pills
|
| Sometimes the ceiling’s too easy to stare at
|
| But it keeps me from a forest full of snare taps and bear traps
|
| And it can’t come clean without the sun beams
|
| And it ain’t complete without the drum beats
|
| I can tell she don’t want me
|
| As is time to climb back into the van and make the back stiff
|
| I had to add one more story to the infinite
|
| Already interwoven through a New York cigarette
|
| Ex lover and a best friend, best lover and an ex friend’ll bend
|
| For alcoholic sentimentalism and the rhythm of
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| Religion on the PA
|
| Make the people here say
|
| God bless the DJ
|
| She stays to wait for a replay
|
| While I wonder if I’ll be able to hear it from the freeway
|
| Chicago inside of an empty bottle
|
| There’s a thin line between gossip and gospel
|
| There’s a house over there near Wicker Park
|
| Where I found out Smart was afraid of the dark
|
| Had to break a heart just to help me heal up
|
| Tie a knot in the stomach just to help me seal up
|
| And make sure them demons stay beneath the core
|
| Pray for you and yours and whomever you believe in more
|
| Look around you there’s angels amongst us
|
| Look around you there’s angels amongst us
|
| Sitting in the rain at some sidewalk cafe
|
| Half of her wet cigarette in the ash tray
|
| Trying to find a lost soul to save
|
| And I’m a lost soul trying to find a road that’s paved
|
| Keep faith in my suitcase packed my beliefs
|
| Angels exist, I’ve even seen some sleep
|
| I love this fucking country
|
| And she loved me more than I could imagine
|
| So I waited till she slept then I stepped into traffic |