i just found me a bottle of blues
some strange comfort
for a soul to soothe
ain't it hard, ain't it hard
to want somebody who doesn't want you
and iv'e been waiting for a year or a day
some strange weather must be blowing my way
cause i got no mind to go or to stay
or be left behind
holding hands with an impotent dream
in a brothel of fake energy
put a nickel in a graveyard machine
i get higher and lower
like a tired soldier
with nothing to shoot
and nowhere to lose this bottle of blues
egos drone and pose alone
like black balloons, all banged and blown
on a backwards river the infidels shiver
in this stench of belief
and tell my mama i'm a hundred years late
i'm over the rails and out of the race
and the crippled palms of an age that won't thaw
are ringing in my ears
back