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Lyrics
Somewhere around each year I try and try to write
What's wrong with me? My senses seem to sense no rhyme in sight
But futures read in teacup leaves a damp familiar ring
Singing in my ears like sirens calling
My heart at night is vacant save the neon vacant sign
That's pressed upon my lonely breast as I hit the streets at nine
And looking there for answers I find nothing comes to light
So I slip into the blue and hang with the moon
The book of life is closed to those who will not turn a page
To read bleeding, blissfully blistering tales of when children reach old age
So far I ain't read one of them yet where a war has not been waged
On the beasts of all their alter-egos clashing
Green is good, and blue is blue, but red is ready to run
From the great plain Janes of Texas truck stops to the Grand Canyon
I wonder if I'll make it there before the setting sun
Drags the daylight trailing black behind me?
Prophecy falls from the sky through the pens of a few chosen scribes
Whose information twists through back door scandals, debts, and bribes
And if I could I'd set them straight and try to do what's right
But they'd just shoot a made for T.V. movie
Last night I had a dream my dad was smokin' cigarettes
And then it started raining and his cigarette got wet
I said, "Don't worry Dad," and pulled one from my antique clarinet
He said, "I'm sorry son but I really ought to quit now."
Somebody asked me, "Who do you think you are?" so I said,
"Of course you know I'm Jesse James reincarnated!
And if you want to scoff at me for trying just to speak,
Then stick to your opinions and practice what you preach."
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