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Published on Sep 26, 2009
It was Don Delillo, whiskey, me And a blinking midnight clock Speakers on a TV stand Just a turntable to watch Only smoke came out our mouths On all those hooded sweatshirt walks We were a stroke of luck We were a gold mine, they gutted us
And from the sidelines you'd see me run Until I'm out of breath Living the good life, I left for dead In the sorrowful Midwest Well I did my best... To keep my head
It was grass stained jeans and incompletes And a girl from class to touch But you think about yourself too much And you ruin who you love Well all these claims at consciousness My stray dog freedom Let's have a nice clean cut Like a bag we buy and divy up
And from the sidelines I see you run Until you're out of breath And all those white lines that sped us up We hurried to our death Well I lagged behind... So you got ahead