Classic Cars
She was a real royal lady, true patron of the artsShe said the best country singers die in the back of classic carsSo if I ever got too hungry for a suitcase or guitarTo think of them all alone in the dark
So I laid some nights beside her in a bed made for a queenShe said I kissed her different, that all the men her age were meanGave me anything I wanted, Oh the generosityI took all that I could, it was free
Now the sky is a torn up denim and the clouds are just splattered paintIt's a room I'm renovating; it's a name I got to changeIf I get out of California I'm going back to my home stateTo tell them all that I made a mistake
And I keep looking for that blindfold faithLighting candles to a cynical saintWho wants the last laugh at the fly trapped in the windowsill tapeYou can go right out of your mind trying to escapeFrom the panicked paradox of day to dayIf you can't understand something then it's best to be afraid
The whole world it loves you if you are a chic chameleonIntersecting circles she could hang with anyoneBut when conducting business she would lie about where she's fromSaying, "Life is how it is not how it was"
I learned to listen felt like I was back at schoolShe'd talk forever about the phases of the moonSaying, "Everything is a cycle, you've got to let it come to youAnd when it does, you will know what to do"
Without even knowing I guess I took her advicePainted her front door it seemed a suitable goodbyeIt's not that often but I think of her sometimesJust something quaint, a couple ships in the night
And they keep moving at a glacial paceTurning circles in a memory mazeI made a new cast of the death mask that is gonna cover my faceI had to change the combination to the safeHide it all behind a wall let people waitAnd never trust a heart that is so bent it can't break