The lights are out The phones are dead And I'm the only thing that's running in this city Except for the clouds Man, they're coming down If I knew my way around, I wouldn't feel so dizzy Where's the telly? Nobody can tell me I don't speak a lick of that language and got a slippery memory If I spelled it all out on my arm Only if But I didn't, so I think, "Get a grip, kid. Deal with it" Baby's waiting for a ring And won't settle for the substitute excuse that's forming I've got a complicated case of escapism For her, I tried to rewire my nature Too tired to wake her Up out of that artificial calm she was on A drug-induced future that slipped out of her palms Seductive rain dancer, she thinks I'm waterproof Like Superman doesn't need a roof over his head When I come home to roost, I'll need truth to hold in bed But I'm seeking salvation in a booth, and the phones are dead And the lights are out And I'm the only thing that's living in this ghost town Except for the clouds And man, they're coming down If I knew my way around by now, I'd be bound for home Black out on white night in Rome Black out on white night in Rome
[Jolie Holland: singing] I know that I'm in love, but I know I'm out of touch And I know that I get dumb when I can sense something's up And then I bottom out European tailspin Scrawling messages out on my pale skin in hopes they get mailed in Before the ink poisoning takes effect And it gets smudged 'cause I budge before letting paint set I get judged by the ones who have shelter and rain checks While I trudge through the mud because this foreign terrain's wet Regain consciousness, then lose common sense The ominous, dark skies that lie between me and Providence are signs The obvious answer isn't standing on your face with stilettos on If you pop the question wrong Every song's a post afterthought, but I won't grab the chalk To outline my body of work Toe tags get caught in my teeth 'cause my foot is in my mouth And the spurs are in my words, so my tongue can't dismount Even after our rapport had fully run its course I couldn't figure out the most heroic time to jump from the horse And place this old hat for the last time on the coat rack But I'd donate all my earnings from the race just to know that Resisting urges to go back and get it later Like the milk would unsour itself in the refrigerator A wet boy in a dry, dry state On an old country road where tradition has a blind date I'll make it dance on its own grave tonight With a change of direction by the pale moonlight And if it needs theme music, I'll break out the bagpipes Play a tune you ghostwrote me in a past life that goes like ...
[Jolie Holland: singing] Black out on white night in Rome Black out on white night in Rome Black out on white night in Rome Black out on white night in RomeTeksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.
