She cooks him ham and ho-cakes
at 5:30 every mornin'.
She does the dishes
and she irons his uniforms.
And she thinks she might have loved him once
but that was so long ago.
And the rain pours down
like a holy waterfall
over the gulf of mexico.
Boardwalk's deserted
and the beach is all closed down.
And the middle school punkrockers
ride their skateboards through the town.
And she looks back and she daydreams
about things and people she's never
seen just to keep from being blue
and she gets home about a quarter to four
and drives her brother
to the liquor store on Ocean Avenue.
And i'm parked on the state line on this
cold November day
and pretty soon I'll be a drivin' fool
somewhere down this lost highway.
And I hear a voice from
my soul's core sayin
"freedom's just a
metaphor and you got nowhere to go"
and the rain pours down like a
holy waterfall
over the gulf of mexico (x3)
She cooks him ham and ho-cakes
at 5:30 every mornin'.
She does the dishes
and she irons his uniforms.
And she thinks she might have loved him once
but that was so long ago.
And the rain pours down
like a holy waterfall
over the gulf of mexico.
Boardwalk's deserted
and the beach is all closed down.
And the middle school punkrockers
ride their skateboards through the town.
And she looks back and she daydreams
about things and people she's never
seen just to keep from being blue
and she gets home about a quarter to four
and drives her brother
to the liquor store on Ocean Avenue.
And i'm parked on the state line on this
cold November day
and pretty soon I'll be a drivin' fool
somewhere down this lost highway.
And I hear a voice from
my soul's core sayin
"freedom's just a
metaphor and you got nowhere to go"
and the rain pours down like a
holy waterfall
over the gulf of mexico (x3)
She cooks him ham and ho-cakes
at 5:30 every mornin'.
She does the dishes
and she irons his uniforms.
And she thinks she might have loved him once
but that was so long ago.
And the rain pours down
like a holy waterfall
over the gulf of mexico.
Boardwalk's deserted
and the beach is all closed down.
And the middle school punkrockers
ride their skateboards through the town.
And she looks back and she daydreams
about things and people she's never
seen just to keep from being blue
and she gets home about a quarter to four
and drives her brother
to the liquor store on Ocean Avenue.
And i'm parked on the state line on this
cold November day
and pretty soon I'll be a drivin' fool
somewhere down this lost highway.
And I hear a voice from
my soul's core sayin
"freedom's just a
metaphor and you got nowhere to go"
and the rain pours down like a
holy waterfall
over the gulf of mexico (x3)