Album: These Are the Names of Places We Broke Down In
I am as old as my tongue
I am much older than my teeth
Been neighbors for years but nevertheless not a word was shared
Just eyes through the blinds
Venetian
Odds
Evens
The flop read
'Good thing you bet the farm
Good thing you bet it all!
Those bastards are always bluffing blind no matter what's dealt, drawn, or thrown down'
Where do all thoughts go to lay themselves down for good?
Perhaps they will rot with the body or float up to the sky by the tail of the soul
Auto pilot, take 'em there by surprise!
Go out in a blaze, a blaze of glory
Leave without a trace
Leave without a flaw
We'll catch up with those thoughts when we catch up with ourselves,
As we catch up with yourselves catching up with each other
Well blow me down, blow me back down to earth
As fast as half-way between go and stop!
Throw your mama from the train or my mom will shoot