She cooks him ham and hotcakes at 5:30 in the morn
She does the dishes and irons his uniforms
And she thinks she might have loved him once but that was long ago
And the rain pours down like a holy waterfall over the Gulf of Mexico
The boardwalk's deserted and the beach is all closed down
And the middle school punkrockers ride their skateboards through the town
And she looks back and she daydreams about things and people she's never seen
Just to keep from being blue
And she gets home about a quarter to four
And drives her brother to the liquor store on ocean avenue
And I'm parked on the state line on this cold November day
And pretty soon I'll be a drivin fool somewhere down this lost highway
Then I hear a voice from my soul's core
Sayin "freedom's just a metaphor, you got nowhere to go"
And the rain pours down like a holy waterfall over the Gulf of Mexico |