tom jessen's dimestore outfit redemption ©1996 highway 3 west eating that slice of moon from an open car window made you howl let's see how fast this thing can go put it to the ground the radio's kind of busted, you gotta mess with it a bit to get a good sound pull it over let's go get lost in the cornfields with that bottle of royal crown no sign of life on either horizon we lay down on that dividing line it cuts us in half go forward or go back either way just don't seem right what about jenny, you left her standing alone back there she'll wonder where you are you say you'd love to lie there forever idled there on the tar I'd give five hundred dollars for something true everything I got in this pocket change too I keep thinking about when she slipped her hand in mine hard to find anything that seems more right ------------------------------------------------------ gabrielle I was so pumped I called my girl gabrielle I told her I was picking her up on my new motorcycle and we're gonna drive around town feel so high nothing's gonna bring us down sneaking in the night trying not to make a sound sitting in the dark kissing on the couch oh I love my girl gabrielle oh I love my new motorcycle oh I love my new gabrielle oh I love my girl motorcycle ---------------------------------------------------- shitforsaken stop the car and I'll ask this guy where we are you said we can't go on like this well I think it's fun just driving in the sun happy to vacate the nest that town was a dead end where everyone tried to pretend that they weren't all chained and bound well I tired of not knowing where I'm going but at least we're not sitting around throw your stuff in the back of my car don't leave your regards then no one will know where we are every road's right when you don't have a clue but the best thing now, judy, is just being with you the pavement's there for anyone who dares making it one their own with what little money we got we can do one hellava lot but we got to find a new home can you see the lights coming up this town is ours for the taking the people back there they were going nowhere the town was shitforsaken so come on judy, you know I love you truly you're driving my car and I'm playing your guitar singing country music to you all day long ------------------------------------------------------- 57 chevy surrounded by snow and friends I don't know I drive by that 57 chevy in the lot I'm putting in my time but it's too slow going by pretending to get wise and quit my job got enough money to buy that 57 turn the radio on and I'm just floating over the pavement there ain't nothing back there I haven't already found Bobby's found work as a daytime cook but that don't make him any less lost as me behind the black-barred prison lacking in decision easy to settle for blind picket fence security judy is scared thinking she's in love with someone else her pictures lying shotgun next to me I'm going to write her a letter telling her maybe it's better than a straightjacket smile in the passenger's seat -------------------------------------------------------- some other day slumped over the bar with my head down three cheers for the last six beers they gave me momentary loss of my pain build a barricade around that pay phone thirty-five cents and whiskey encouragement but I ain't got nothing to gain pushing two in the morning where's the next round foley is shaking his head he thinks I better go home it's coming on snow but I want to be face down pull the blanket over my head and bury me in the gutter all alone well my brash contradictions got me in trouble again fish flip flop on desolate dry sand whistling drunk lies through the holes in my teeth all too deadpan tell her dry that I left town I taped her photograph to the dash I'll forget her some other day -------------------------------------------------- do as yer told I bought a 69 dodge dart it cleaned me out dry raining so hard the wipers hypnotize I left a wake of leaves a girl on the sly a chained up mutt and the sheriff sleepy-eyed I'm going to hide under leaves and live in sidewalk cracks my double take ghosts, they're straining their necks tie your shoelaces tight and spit on your soles wooden nickel pinch of salt do as yer told momma had a baby and his head popped off ------------------------------------------------------- no place unlike home with a half a pack of smokes and a hand shake from my folks I left that old town buried scarecrow phone poles but I set the cruise control these Iowa plates tell the best story with my feet on the dash and tilted rearview mirror past it seemed to make sense at the time I thought there'd be a place some where with a rail on the stairs to keep me from falling over the side well I'm in a new place but wearing the same old lost face I guess it don't matter where you go on the street in the rain, well it all seems the same I guess there's no place unlike home ------------------------------------------------- 18th and davis review well my home town paper is sitting in the box today there's this article on the third page saying my old high school girl is getting married my higher hopes are like bicycle spokes we go round and round she's become just another product of prop and circumstance the girl I'm with now says I couldn't write my way out of a paper town like this I'm an old dog at twenty-three scraping for new tricks well my boredom reminds me I'm getting old looking out on a city I don't know newspaper clippings they've turned scared yellow the romantics talk semantics only after a couple of glasses of vintage wine and me I'm just trying to deal people by the hand full are clinging to intangibles, I'm envious when did I leave my naiveté to the previous charlie has gone to minneapolis he said he'd save a place for us sad to think that time and place has digested everybody is passing through my life like shots that almost hit well I wish they would have wasted me away spending too much time with drunks who've had their time a story for everyday of the week their half opened eyelids and yellow stained fingertips so quiet sometimes you can hear their bones creek odds are slim I'll be seeing them again everybody has had their day not to much to think about and even less to say back in the midwest there's boys causing incidents where backseat drivers rule they got all night to kill the book of murphy's laws beneath the tires of their cars driving far away it was those fireflies eyes that tripped me back into summer... back when I took a phillips screwdriver and I carved my name in the soft brick behind the popcorn stand... then I headed back down to the carnival and watched all the lights and sounds spray out all over the town like some kind of unmanned fire hose that nobody wanted to control. ---------------------------------------------------------- on the cuff this town is slowly breaking my back I can't pay for the drinks that I just drank frankie is sitting here laughing about the checks he collects that five dollar bill thrown around without regret her talks the tall tale tongue holes in pockets this lint ain't worth a dime shooting nine ball with les just trying to waste time going to go home and lay down for awhile these dreams are the only thing that ease my mouth to a smile suppose to rain tomorrow too midwestern dreams the front porch shade in old blue jeans let's take that three fifty for a spin I heard dawn will give it to you if you ask her to she's faster than that piece of shit you got I just got paid, what do you say we'll grab some cigarettes and waste the day away lying in the grass, you're talking out your hat I think jane has got the perfect ass It's hard every time she passes by I got sleep in my eyes the sun went down and died I head down to the matador lounge lottie is going to give me one on the cuff She's been there everyday of her life, she knows that it's rough somebody is sitting on my stool -------------------------------------------------------- another saturday night I hang up my apron and then I slide on my coat hope the bus ain't too late it's my only ride home well my old man left me his boots, now they're covered with grime they're buried in the closest but tonight they'll spit shine I drove those slave wages throughout the week and nothing could be better than letting them all go free and this town is full of has-beens before their time well I ride my uncertainty like a hobo train waiting for that boxcar door to slide a hip pocket pint fuels thoughts of outside settling for a crack of Saturday night the lights always bleed when the townies scoop the loop gus bruises with a gillete shave twitch and a red light punch lead foot and alton hasn't moved since the last time I was here he's stinking of cigars and whiskey sours growing roots and a five o' clock beard and the girls are painted like clowns playing the show their three ring shenanigans assures a backseat ride home and nobody here is thinking about Sunday night well fate may deal me the darkest of deaths and I suppose that'll have to suit me just fine but the boys are all here and its in these moments I fear that there will never be another Saturday night there it went another Saturday night -------------------------------------------------------- sanctuary mom keeps sending me rosaries the world's barely standing on wooden legs now activist complaints and atrocities there's dust collecting on my window blinds in Iowa you can see for miles the sun's coming out it's a good day for a drive everything looks fine behind this windshield when you're driving by but everybody's got their two cents worthless leave this town with the window down tonight soapbox strangers are boring me with anecdotes and confessional soliloquies talk about the weather, shit, their waxing hurricanes tornado gut wrench, well we're due for some rain old friends stopping by unexpectedly just more explanations I'm not up for I don't have the passion to recap and convert through silent reactions I can see I was expected more leave this town with the window down tonight one by one all my heroes turned soar they say your taste buds are the first to go you just can't trust much when each day something else crumbles no need to know much when you're all alone everybody's clutching better ideas idled in pockets the devil's playing with lint balls these days can't even hear myself think over their talking would be cooks with hand-written recipes leave this town with the windows down a four-wheel sanctuary all I need in my room is a broom and I'll keep it crystal clean --------------------------------------------------------------- supply and demand you wonder why I can never look you in the eye well I've memorized every pattern on this floor her eyes are so naked I feel as if I'm intruding if I look at them too long I projected you deceptive emotion like a summer vacation slide show but I guess there was something else behind that holiday smile your ballet mirages and my one-way economics falls prey to wistful invention I'll supply the expectations and demand that you be true I know I'm talking clichés and turning verbal tricks but even the cheesiest love songs in a bar turn profound when your three sheets to the wind I could change this whiskey to water but to you it's just pathetic heresy sometimes when there's nothing left to do I sit stacked and smoke myself silly and make myself break down because I guess I feel it's the thing I should do I could toss around the word love like a boomerang but I lost my catcher's mask and you wear your skepticism with rubber boots and chastity wrapped in a cast maybe the mailbox might hold simple salvation I've seen the future in a crystal glass of beer and I ain't pretending that I understand a thing but this ignorance is blistering but open wounds dry clean ------------------------------------------------------ blanket, tombstone, feather looking for the big trees and crooked sidewalks the hideaway porch that sees all cunning relics of autumn street corners sitting incognito under amber waves of leaves spider branches hanging high in the Indian wind I can feel your soft shoulders under flannel whispers with a dream in my hand I can build my blanket, tombstone, feather there's a table against the window my jackknife pathos is finding in the shade and from behind the screen door well it's sounding like a victrola kind of rain listen to the rain --------------------------------------------------------- prodigal son well I look to the sky but all I see is that big blue umbrella that's keeping cathartic rains from falling on my head silhouette snippets and thoughts like crickets making all kinds of racket with rationalizations of time well spent well my head's been filled with blanks and bullets and I don't have control of either one all of these head wounds are self-inflicted and maliciously situated like that lonely chair propped up against heaven's doorknob self-induced religions bare fruit only when faith falls floundering well I've waded through false beliefs and seeping skin from the girls along the streets balancing the bible and the american dream on my head with outstanding debts in the passage of time but old photographs are epitaphs with a little grace and insight I've seen it on my faces estranged redemption with all its blemishes being backed by popular demand well what good are these heroes riding ideas on downward spirals their words are from no language I can use here thirty miles shy of omaha I wondered what I'd just done then I realized I'm finally living in the moment this highway is pink with conversion lord have mercy for these hometown citadels the prodigal son is home, won't you wish him well