Lyrics
back in the old folky days, the air was magic when we played, the riverboat was rocking in the rain, midnight was the time for the raid, oh, isabela, proud isabela, they tore you down and plowed you under, you're only real with your make-up on, how could i see you and stay too long?, all along the navajo trail, burn-outs stub their toes, on garbage pails, waitresses are crying in the rain, will their boyfriends pass this way again?, oh, mother goose, she's on the skids, shoe ain't happy, neither are the kids, she needs someone that she can scream at, and i'm such a heel for making her feel so bad, i guess i'll call it sickness gone, it's hard to say the meaning of this song, an ambulance can only go so fast, it's easy to get buried in the past, when you try to make a good thing last, i saw today in the entertainment section, there's room at the top for private detection, to mom and dad this just doesn't matter, but it's either that or pay off the kidnapper, so all you critics sit alone, you're no better than me for what you've shown, with your stomach pump and your hook and ladder dreams, we could get together for some scenes, well, i'm up in t.o. keeping jive alive, and out on the corner it's half past five, but the subways are empty, and so are the cafes, except for the farmer's market, and i still can hear him say: you're all just pissing in the wind, you don't know it but you are, and there ain't nothing like a friend, who can tell you you're just pissing in the wind, i never knew a man could tell so many lies, he had a different story for every set of eyes, how can he remember who he's talking to?, because i know it ain't me and i hope it isn't you
Song details
Artist: jeff rosenstock