Grill
Black thunder rolls away from me
Mosquitoes worship the headlights
And sacrifice their little bodies to the cause
Diners like glow-worms
Proffer pepto bismal shakes
And blood in a cup
Where nickels are still currency
And not dimestore words
Aurora borealis kings me like a checker
Heading north to the white night
And my man consults muggamozz
with his Jerrylewis semaphore
And everything tastes like malt
Grill is a moody number with moments of drama characterized by minor bar chords. Life on the road, playin joints. You know how it is.
Stand up in the cemetary
Who makes the comic laugh
When the house lights come up
And the coat check closes
And the people leave the pub
What's the deal with laughter
Are we afraid to say
Peculiar things
In the middle of the day?
Is everything funny?
Or the other way 'round
Are we always denying
That hole in the ground?
This one carried on from there with a ballad style lyric about a comic named Headstone O'Grady who played the comedy circuit in clubs called "The Boneyard" and "Stoney Lawns" and "The plots" but the song died before we could record it. Funny!
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