"Pinball Song," from Slobberbone
Six weeks on the road now, I'm feeling kind of spent
There's a few things I need and ones a friend
A few good games of pinball and a double whiskey sour
I'll rinse it with a beer and repeat again
You know I couldn't find you in the place you used to be
I'm a sucker for the old times, that's me
But I asked around the bar and they said you were gone for a couple of days
On a vacation in the drunk tank so they'd say
Seems you were walking down the street, looking for relief
Your bedroom seemed a hundred miles away,
The dark side of a dumpster seemed the perfect place to sleep
Cops woke you up and cuffed you where you lay.
So what's the price of stolen sleep, I guess it's pretty steep,
Two hundred and fifty dollars for your bail,
They tried to raise the money, to get you out of jail,
And I guess they did their damnedest but they failed.
I saw that girl you used to know at the other end of the bar
I never thought she'd ever get that far
She said you two were through, it seemed you were driving for different things
I said I understood, I've wrecked that car
So now there's thirteen empty bottles, a glass or two or four
The lights came on we headed for the door
But the night was adolescent and she said she wanted more
And that's what she kept the Apple Blossom for
So up the stairs to her apartment with the Christmas lights that blink
It's the second week of May but that'd be okay
Except that under those blinking lights we opened a big old can of stink
And you smell it soon enough in one more day
(harmonica rockage)
Saturday, the twelfth of May, the policeman turns the valve
And the first drunk of the weekend dribbles out
Collect all your effects and take a cab straight to the bar
You're wondering what the whisperings all about
Well, I'll tell you:
It's about the easy sheen of alcohol, of better-not-do's done
Of blinking lights and the curse of roomates' tongues
An entire bar's worth holding theirs, but it only takes just one
And then it's pass that can around, it's your turn, son
Because this pinball game I'm playing, you know it's not the same
Times used to be you and me could always match
Yeah and the multiball came easy just like the replay game
And the wagers won and tossed hard down the hatch
So now I nailed a free game and there's a bottle across my head
My table tilts, I'm headed for the floor
Went out to find an old friend but I lost me one instead
I lost it all for just another score
Yeah, I lost it all for just another score
-=-=-
Poetry, people. Poetry.
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fan of the rollick B
3 comments:
Pump up the volume.
L'estasi dell' oro. [The Ecstasy of Gold.]
M.
Re: post above.
How in hell is one going to describe that in three and a half pages?
Not even a spoken word.
M.
mna, that is good.
Have you listened to 16 Maybe Less by Iron & Wine with Calexico? Wow.
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