All of the stage names evaporate
|
And it's just a blood flushed and heart-rushing race
|
Either to kick off too soon or stick around too late
|
To be far too dear or too cut-rate
|
Hold my hand again
|
Like at the lake
|
|
Hold that mirror, babe
|
Up to my face
|
Hear the whippoorwill
|
Am I breathing still?
|
|
A Hollywood Babylon bike-a-thon for breakdancers all broken down in their beds
|
Now intravenously fed
|
From a bag hanging over their heads
|
Can I put you down for some miles?
|
What do you say?
|
Cause don't you know, it's going to be a long, long way
|
But if you've got the cash
|
I'm ready to bust my ass
|
|
So, take this thin broken down circus clown reject and give her the name of a queen
|
Don't I know her from the mezzanine?
|
She didn't look like no princess to me
|
But with the proper words bestowed
|
And with her morning shoot
|
Her evening clothes
|
Don't call her a prostitute-
|
She ain't one of those-
|
Just call her a proper little statue
|
Come unfroze
|
|
-----------------
|
Title Track
|
| Okkervil River |
