Jim White - No Such Place (2003) by Jim White (보컬) on maniadb.com

I'm handcuffed to a fence in Mississippi.
My girlfriend blows a boozy good-bye kiss.
I see flying squirrels and nightmares of stigmata.
Then awakening to find my Trans-Am gone.
Still, I'm feeling pretty good about the future.
Yeah, everything is peaches but the cream.
I'm handcuffed to a fence in Mississippi,
where things is always better than they seem.
Things is always better than they seem.
I see the guitar that my cousin played in prison,
floating with the tv in the swimming pool.
I'm calling for the owner of the motel,
then noticing the bloodstain on the door.
I'm reaching for the shoes under the bushes,
just in time to hear the sirens sing.
I'm handcuffed to a fence in Mississippi,
where things is always better than they seem.
Things is always better than they seem.
You know freedom's just a stupid superstition,
'cause life's a highway that you travel blind.
It's true that having fun's a terminal addiction.
What good is happiness, when it's just a state of mind?
For in the prison of perpetual emotion,
we're all shackled to the millstone of our dreams.
Me, I'm handcuffed to a fence in Mississippi,
where things is always better than they seem.
Things are always better than they seem.

Long about an hour before sunrise
she drags his body down to the edge of the swollen river
wrapped in a red velvet curtain stolen from the movie theater where she works. Quiet as a whisper, under the stanchions of a washed-out bridge she cuts him loose...and watches as the flood waters spin him around once, then carry him away. Then she removes the golden ring upon her finger...and she throws it in. And I wonder; Baby why don't you cry? Baby why don't you... Baby why don't you cry? Three days later in a bar in southern Mississippi she meets a man by the name of Charles Lee. She introduces herself to him as "Lee Charles" "What a coincidence." he says...and one week later they are married. He wakes up one night six months down the line to find her staring at him in the oddest way. When he says, "Honey, what's wrong?" she says, "Oh nothing dear...except that tears are a stupid trick of God."
And by the time they find his body six weeks later... Well hell, she's a thousand miles away. And I wonder; Baby why don't you cry? Baby why don't you... Baby why don't you cry?
She runs from devils. She runs from angels. She runs from the ghost of her father and five different uncles. Blinded by their memory, seared by their pain, she'd like to kill 'em all...then kill 'em all again. She don't think much about what she's done or the funny feelings that she feels. No, she don't. To her it's just a condition she picked up as a child... a little thing she calls, "the wound that never heals", she calls it, "the wound that never heals" And I wonder; Baby why don't you cry? Baby why don't you...
Baby why don't you cry?

Sunlight in the weeds...I wish that I was blind...to the ghosts
dancing in the breeze...blowing through my mind.
Got a Corvair in my yard. It hasn't run in fifteen years.
It's a home for the birds now. It's no longer a car.
Last night I dreamed that I was swimming in a sea.
Like always, with everything I went in too deep.
Got a Corvair in my yard. It hasn't run in fifteen years.
It's a home for the birds now. It's no longer...a car.
Got a simple friend out west, and in the blink of an eye,
I'd swap him straight, his life for mine...and never wonder "Why?".
[CHORUS]

They tell me miracles abound now more than ever, but I dont care.
They say its better to be blessed than it is to be clever, but I dont care.
Cause I got 10 miles to go on a 9 mile road, and its a rocky rough
road, but I dont care.

For lifes nothing if not a blind rambling prayer, you
Keep your head held high, awalking and atalking
til the power of Love deliver you there.
The power of love deliver you there.
The power of love deliver you there.
The power of Love deliver you...you...

You dont get nothing for free, less of course you steal it, at least thats what the people say. The sad irony of Love is how so seldom you feel it, yet its all you dream about, night and day. From the splinter in the hand, to the thorn in the heart, to the shotgun to the head, you got no choice but to learn to glean solace from pain or youll end up cynical or dead. Me, I got 10 miles to go on a 9 mile road and its a rocky rough road, but I dont care.

For lifes nothing if not a blind rambling prayer, you keep your head held high, awalking and atalking and atalking and awalking,
til the power of Love deliver you there.
The power of Love deliver you there.
The power of Love deliver you there.
The power of Love deliver you...THERE!!!
Sometimes you throw yourself into the sea of faith, and the sharks of doubt come and they devour you. Other times you throw yourself into the sea of faith only to find the treasure lost in the shipwreck inside of you! There aint no guarantee, none of that nonsense like on tv, just gotta roll the dice and take your lumps. Youre gonna get yourself knocked down, so better learn to stand back up, for those who dwell on disaster let sorrow be their master. Me, I got 10 miles to go on a 9 mile road and its a rocky rough road, but I dont care.
Cause lifes nothing if not a

Where in the world did you come from my dear?
Did some mysterious voice tell you I'd still be here?
I bought this ticket to Mobile, but I been stranded all day
P.a. said the bus broke down ten miles away from the station.

[Chorus]
So seldom a door, so seldom a key, so seldom a hit like the hurt you put on me.
But seldom comes happiness without the pain of the devil in the details
Since I saw the smile on your face
As I was crying in a Greyhound station on Christmas Day, in 1998.

The burden of love is the fuel of bad grammar.
You stutter and stammer--what a bitch to convey the crux of the matter,
When the words you must utter are hopelessly tangled
In the memories and scars you show no one.

[Chorus]

I remember quite clearly, a bad Muzak version of James Taylor's big hit,
Called "Fire and Rain" was playing as you crouched down and tearfully kissed me,
And I thought, "Damn, what good fiction I will mold from this terrible pain."

[Chorus]

Amazing grace, how sweet the smile upon the face I never thought I'd see you again
Especially here in this Greyhound station
On Christmas Day
In 1998.

Fools wind blowing up brown bible verses. Dust storm of memory. Truck stop reverie. 3 AM in my home town, not a soul stirring around. Mr. Trucker Man, don't slow down in this little town. 'Cause I'm traveling faster than the speed of regret. What I was born knowing I was bound to forget. In the blindness of being, what I was born seeing I was just plain bound to forget. Yes, I was just plain bound to forget. Now my tank run dry two hours out of Tucson by three little crosses on the side of the highway. Still as a box full of busted watches, I settle debts with the dead and keep right on...I keep on keeping on. Pedal to the metal on the wide open highway. Criss-cross the high plains of bright-eyed solitude, I tailgate a truck-load of tabula rasa...'til my mind go clearer than the highway west of El Paso. Guess I'm traveling faster than the speed of regret. What I was born knowing I was bound to forget. In the blindness of being what I was born seeing, I was just plain bound to forget. Yes I was just plain bound to forget. Now, 24/7 in the end my friend, gotta go at God's speed, no never relent, lest the soul-sucking, sneaky-deaky, belly-aching past like a ssssnake in the grasssssssss ssssstrike and bury your assssssss. So keep your eyes on the prize on the distant horizon. Be wary of the wind and the bad moon rising. Knowing in your going, somehow, some way, that you'll out-run your shadow...yes you will, one fine day. 'Cause you're traveling faster than the speed of regret. What I was born knowing I was bound to forget. In the blindness of being what I was born seeing I was just plain bound to forget, yes I was just plain bound to forget.

Jesus and the fiery furnace.
Devil and the deep blue sea.
Preacher say I'm gonna burn in hell for all eternity.
But when I have my judgement day and I lock eyes with my savior, well,
This is what I'm gonna tell him when he asks about my behavior...
I'm gonna say;
God was drunk when he made me.
God was drunk when he made me.
God was drunk when he made me.
And that's why I'm so crazy.
Jesus and the fiery furnace.
Devil and the deep blue sea.
God was drunk when he made me...but that's okay 'cause
I forgive Him.
See if it was God who made forgiveness, then before that he musta made sin.
And who built the house of brotherly love, then let the Devil come dancing in?
If it was God that saved the miracle child from the peril of the fiery flame,
Well then it musta been him that killed the two hundred others just to glorify
His name
That's why I say;
God was drunk when he made me.
God was drunk when he made me.
God was drunk when he made me.
And that's why I spout heresy.
Jesus and the fiery furnace,
Devil and the deep blue sea.
God was drunk when he made me but that's okay...'cause I forgive Him.

Trailer for sale or rent, rooms to let fifty cents
No phone, no pool, no pets, I ain't got no cigarettes
I am a, two hours of pushin' broom buys a
Eight by ten four-bit room
I'm a man of means by no means, caause I'm a king of the road
Third boxcar midnight train, destination Bangor, Maine
Old worn out suit and shoes, I don't pay no union dues
I smoke old stogies I have found, short but not too big around
I'm a man of means by no means,cause i'm a king of the road
King of The Road. I'm just a King of the Road
I know every engineer on every train
All the children and all the good names
every handout in every town
And if it's locked itt ain't locked if no-one's around
I say...
Trailer for sale or rent, rooms to let fifty cents
I'm a man of means by no means, king of the road
'Cause i'm a King of the Road
I'm just a King of the Road
King of the Road

I like to go out walking in the ghost-town of my brain.
Kick the rusted scrap-iron of my memories and dreams.
Yeah, here's a busted compass...look, the needle's standing still.
Much as some folks hate to lose their way, me, I pray to God that I will.
I got a confession; I never ever had no appetite for pain.
So it's a mystery to me why I like walking in the ghost-town...ghost-town of my brain.
I'm on a coal train headed south, guess we're bound for Birmingham.
Thick as thieves with a black girl twice as messed-up as I am.
The smile upon her face betrays the sorrow in her heart.
Like the testimony of a fun house mirror that some fool broke apart.
Girl listen here; you're just a leaf caught in God's secret hurricane.
And on this cold and dark wild midnight you are dancing in the ghost-town...ghost-town of my brain.
Feel them magnets in the shadows?
Hear the voice of tranger virtue?
Take no comforts with them specters 'cause you know that they can hurt you.
Sweet mother load of secrets, feed my wild and endless hunger.
Seek the misty trail beyond the veil where the world gets torn asunder.
Gimme needles in the haystacks, Lord and riddles in the rain...
'cause I like to go out walking in the ghost-town...ghost-town of my brain.

Bus stop rain...busted power train..got a broke down '69 LTD...
I hocked my tools...to buy my brain...a funeral wreath...from the FTD
Blank billboards on the highway of life. Counterfeit bills in the neon lights.
This stick-shift driven saw-dust dream, show-biz sho' ain't what it seems.
Little hipster dufus with the guitar in a coffin. I been copping his licks about every so often.
Then I flip-flop, go the other way...
I rip off the dude where the colored girls say; doo-doo-do-doo-doo-do-doo-doo-do-do-doooo-dooooo
See, I cut my teeth on the white lines of life's endless lonesome highways.
Taking stock in the horizon... shouting at every fool that come my way---
"HEY!" I been shouting,
"HEY! Can you gimme a ride? Are you going my way?"
"HEY! Can you gimme a ride? Someone gimme a ride!"
but ain't no one going my way.
Now downtown they got the prison of shame.
See the castaways of the Hollywood game?
Tricked out whores with invisible pains.
Cardboard people, dancing in the rain...
to the same old tune, circling like a vulture with the busted juke-box of the popular culture.
If it ain't got a beat, they won't put you on the street.
Heavy on the bass, light on the feet.
I meet the street poets in the bummed out bars.
I hum my single as I jingle down the
"Walk Of Stars"
with the geeks and the freaks and the crooks and the hookers---
the burn-outs of life's pressure cookers.
Now, these are my people, my church without a steeple,
and though I never waste a tissue on an incidental issue,
still I sympathize, 'cause I realize when I see the sorrow in their eyes.
'Cause I cut my teeth on the white lines of life's endless lonesome highways.
Taking stock in the horizon... shouting at every fool that come my way---
"HEY!" I been shouting,
"HEY! Can you gimme a ride? Are you going my way?"
"HEY! Can you gimme a ride? Someone gimme a ride!"
but ain't no one going my way.
Now in the field of my mind
I'm plowing the topsoil of my memory.
Digging up bones and skeletones--- rusty relics from my past.
Gotta put a new shine on the twists of time, redefine this old cemetery...
Clear out the weeds, sow new seeds, sure I'm scared, but still I'm gonna carry on.
'Cause never did a body find their way home without showing first firm as a stone
the conviction, the strength the courage that it takes to make a journey start
For you got to be true, you got to be strong,
'specially when the long road home
leads smack through the smoking ruins of your broken heart.And I know.
'Cause I cut my teeth on the white lines of life's endless lonesome highway...
Taking stock in the horizon...shouting at every fool that come my way---
"HEY!" I been shouting,
"HEY! Can you gimme a ride? Are you going my way?"
"HEY! Can you gimme a ride? Someone gimme a ride!"
but ain't no one going my way.