Gold Mine Gutted
It was Don DeLillo, whiskey neatAnd a blinking midnight clockSpeakers on a TV standJust a turntable to watchAnd the smoke came out our mouthsOn all those hooded sweatshirt walksWe were a stroke of luckWe were a gold mine, they gutted us
And from the sidelines you see me runUntil I'm out of breathLiving the good life, I left for deadThe sorrowful MidwestWell I did my best...To keep my head
It was grass stain jeans and incompletesAnd a girl from class to touchBut you think about yourself too muchAnd you ruin who you loveWell all these claims at consciousnessMy stray dog freedomLet's have a nice clean cutLike a bag we buy and divy up
And from the sidelines, I see you runUntil you're out of breathAnd all those white lines that sped us upWe hurried to our deathWell I lagged behind...So you got ahead