Santa Barbara Starfish Lover Won't you be my valentine I see you just like no other Your lips are freedom, let them shine Black and blue was my good angel The day she showed me my beloved My destiny sits on the stage of The Santa Barbara Starfish Club Santa Barbara starfish lover Don't feel ruled by circumstance Take my hand if you need cover We'll do the age-old ocean dance Santa Barbara Starfish Lover Won't you be my valentine I see you just like no other Your lips are freedom, let them shine

It's a long way to East Berlin It's a longer way to Winnipeg when you're leaving in the morning From the Cumberland home where your father was born He's dead and buried now if you believe it Grab your guitar and your traveling shoes A pair of Docs with the laces frayed and too tight on the leather But if nothing else, at least you've got a car that runs And from time to time it sputters From time to time it sputters Fuel up at a truck stop, put some water in the radiator Bum a cigarette from an old man with a flower print shirt And he reminds you of your grandpa who always drove a Pontiac And he always looked to you like Richard Belzer In one town you meet a girl with diamonds on her shoulder In another there's another one with painted black nails And little traces of blue in the strands of her hair And her bed is made of firewood and sulphur Her bed is made of firewood and sulphur She buys you a pack of Edward Gorey tarot cards And reads to you from a leather-bound edition of the bible With the words of Christ all printed in red But nothing makes sense to you so you nod your head and tell her that You've gotta keep going while the sun's still behind you It's nipping at your heels and leaving red marks all over Your left arm in the window and the right one on the wheel And a piece of black paper on the mirror And a piece of black paper on the mirror Manitoba peaks out from the hills past your windshield And your friends all say they plan to meet you laughing And they'll raise you up and take care of you when you get drunk But in the end something will be missing But in the end something will be missing You think of your father and the way he went down Think of the last chance he had to see you And you imagine a time where his head was unbound And his love for you was uncomplicated And his love for you was uncomplicated It's a long way to East Berlin

Demolition man, tell me you're listening The charges set, three hours to go Did you do the math, did you add up the numbers? Demolition man, are you ready to go? And the time it takes for the crew to get ready Is the same time it takes for your phone To ring a couple hundred times, I guess Have you nothing to confess? There's a crowd on the street that's lined up and waiting There's a camera that's set between you and the sun There's a woman at home with a knife in her pocket Does she already know that the damage is done? And the time it takes for the building to fall Is the same time it would take for a man To reach out and say he's sorry for how he's been It won't happen again Good lady at home, I know it's a burden Your fever a hundred, your man on the road If he blows the dam, will the water run freely? If he drops the bomb, are you ready to go? And the time it takes for your fever to break Is the same time it takes for his plane To taxi to the gate, are you the first one he calls? Will you answer at all?

The last owner of the family gun Walks alone in the dark of the sun See him leave through the twenty-foot door Hit the road for the regular score There's a man with the light in his eyes He wants to die by the methods of Christ Hang him up, let his stomach turn black Feel the wind like a whip as it cracks And he'll see There's a game we play called chutes and snakes It helps if you give thanks Shoot the cameraman and steal his flank Hang the river Into the trees The last star of the cinema screen Tries to tell us what the calendar means Bottoms up on the Hollywood tour The wagon's off if you're ready for more Walk heavy with your map to the stars Kill the night in the Hollywood bars Last days on an oxygen tank Smoking dick while the mountains pull rank On the sea There's a game we play called living well And life's a living hell Watch the seasons turn and waste them well Make your living Suffering fools Last star, last screen Last owner, last dream Last bird, last sky Bottoms up, last try The last train on the Hemingway Line Leaves the station at a quarter to nine Ticket taker with a pen in his arm Lays you down on the Michigan farm Ranch house on the Idaho plains Topanga Canyon at the death of the day Phantom pain on the passenger side Stab the heart and let the carousel fly Running free There's a game we play called apogees They're far from you and me Carve your wooden stakes and effigies Pray to Jesus Carpenter King There's a game we play called living well And life's a living hell Watch the seasons turn and waste them well Make your living Suffering fools

Latch onto the things that bring you comfort Horror pictures all announce themselves Slasher killers, things you need to carry Try to push your life on someone else Did you ever think that all those lovers Wanted something more Than to bend in genuflection while you walked In and out the door Dp you think that you're so special you could Forget the things you felt Do you think your little grin can move you In and of itself Your head is full of little facts and questions The internet plays tricks upon your mind The friends you leave, the useless information The image of a town that's in decline Do cannibals spark inspiration Conspiracies bring joy Do aliens make you feel less like The elevator boy Does anybody care about you The way you want them to Is the life that you keep building your ticket Into something new

[old pink cadillac] If I could drive an old pink Cadillac I would roll up to work and I would not feel so bad about it, baby Take me with you when you go If I could have a house down by the ocean I'd take my coffee to the sound of seagulls honking, baby Take me with you when you go I know I'm not a special guy But you can see the fun in me if you really try You can take my shirt off and grab a hunk of fat You'll say, "I'm sure glad I went for a lover like that" If I could have you and you would run away with me Then we'd never have to work again, go away and just be happy, baby Take me with you when you go [ashcan song] There's a tug in my chest when the sun tears the sky It's a cliche to say it, we're all born to die But it's a comfort to know there's an end to this whole thing I guess At the end of the day it's no use to get mad Time's a bitch but it's all that we have Might as well stick around for the morning and all of the rest There's a funeral home at the end of the street Where they made up my friend in the embalming machine They put him in his best suit and sent him down the river alone You and I met at his wake in the sand You were scared when I showed you my detachable hands But you soon came around when you looked on my ankles of stone Love, it transmits through the air now and then I think you caught on to my sorrow-struck wind And in time we sat down, one and one, inconstantly joined I tried for a long time to show you my light All the bad poetry I'd jot down at night But I've resigned myself, now I just write these songs in your voice It's the ashcan morning when the smog takes its rest And the feel of my head nestled into your chest And the way that the woods seem to move on the edge of the wind No matter what happens we're interred hand-in-hand Our deadwagons move on the flat desert land And it might be a minute, but I'll see you again in the end There's a tug in my chest when the sun tears the sky It's a cliche to say it, we're all born to die But it's a comfort to know there's an end to this whole thing I guess At the end of the day it's no use to get mad Time's a bitch but it's all that we have Might as well stick around for the morning and all of the rest