| Yeah, and when the band played Sally Cinnamon
|
| It felt like 1991 again
|
| Didn’t get into them too early in
|
| But I still got into them
|
| Right now that seems like it’s the most important thing
|
| That’s the thing about Gideon
|
| And that’s just a little bit about so many things
|
| He knows too much about certain things
|
| He knows some guys who know some Latin Kings
|
| Right now that seems like it’s pretty much the only thing
|
| We’re baby birds with broken wings and we sing
|
| Yeah, we sing unity songs but the scene’s still splintered
|
| We’re stretched thin and we’re stressed at the seams
|
| And we dream
|
| Yeah we dream like screen, but we’re still out of focus
|
| Sure, we know it’s just showbiz
|
| It still seems to surprise us
|
| When they hook us by the mouth and pull us up
|
| And then they try to fry us
|
| That’s the thing about Charlemagne
|
| He got all washed up in the amber waves of grain
|
| Roughed up in the bars and the bluffs
|
| Tangled up in the double dutch
|
| You know he drank too much, he never really ate enough
|
| It was so, so sad, with Charly in a sick bed
|
| He looked like hell and smelled like chemicals
|
| Maxin' out on medicine and feelin' all invincible
|
| ICU in Regions Hospital
|
| It felt so cool with Holly at the bus stop
|
| Yeah, we could feel it comin' through our arteries
|
| We’re runnin' low on energy and nodding off in reverie
|
| Faded blues in Memphis, Tennessee
|
| The Mississippi River always holds it all together
|
| Yeah, we sing unity songs but the scene’s still splintered
|
| We’re stretched thin and we’re stressed at the seams and we dream
|
| Yeah we dream like screen, but we’re still out of focus
|
| Sure, we know it’s just showbiz
|
| It still seems to surprise us
|
| When they hook us by the mouth and pull us up
|
| And then they try to fry us
|
| Done a pretty good job of fryin' ourselves, I think
|
| As she goes blastin' static — Music from the Big Pink
|
| Stumbled into the foyer and pulled the bookshelf over
|
| Yeah, we were drowning in the literature
|
| Bram Stoker hit your head
|
| Ginsburg hit your dick
|
| A big black Bible hit your head
|
| And that’s how we got born again |