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Beck
Dead Melodies
when this day is over
a gambler's purse
lays in the road
straight to your door
snakes have gone crazy tonight
winding their way out of sight
laugh, joke
the sentiment wasted
seasons and strangers,
they come and go
the doldrums are pounding
cheapskates are clouding this town
who could disown themselves now
engineer
slow down that old
train
send us in chaff
laugh at the moon
nightbirds will cackle
rotting like apples on trees
send in their dead melodies
to me.
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