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I heard you were a king
You didn’t leave behind a goddamn thing

Why did I look into
the dim eye of the mole?
There was no silence there
Many voices spoke.
Thinking I died
I tried to listen
I saw one hundred
saddles without horses
galloping

Get out of here, go home.
That’s what you used to play at shows.

Sister sister sister watches
The furniture go
She just didn’t have the scratch
To keep you in that sorry hole
Money Money money don’t
Let you sleep
Switching graves in the cemetery
They buried you so many times
can’t find your body

Get outta here, go home.
That’s what you used to play at the ends of shows
In the middle of the parade you
were frothing at the mouth
Didn’t he ramble ‘til the Butcher cut him down?

Fool, all you touch on this
turning dream
is either gonna be
burned or buried
All your jewelry goes around from town to town
All your pretty ones, I’m not gonna say
where they are now

Get outta here, go home.
That’s what you used to say at the ends of shows
In the middle of the parade, you were
frothing at the mouth
Children, turn on your radio and
Don’t go out.

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