I rode down to the tracks
Thinking they might sing to me
But they just stared back
Broken, trainless and black as nightClimbed out onto my roof
So I'd be a poet in the night
Beat the walls off my room
I saw the big room that is this lifeThis is my condition, naked and hysterical
Reaching to grab a hand that I just slapped back at
This is my condition, desperate, alone, without an excuse
I try to explain, Christ, what's the use?
Read and I felt so small
Some words keep speaking when you close the book
Drank and just about smiled
Then I remembered us in that bedPut my ear to the door
I just heard hot rods and gunshots and sirens
People kill me these days
There's keys in their eyes but they lock from the inside
This is my condition, naked and hysterical
Reaching to grab a hand that I just slapped back at
This is my condition, desperate, alone, without an excuse
I try to explain, Christ, what's the use?
