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E.M.P.T.Y
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The Clientele
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1
When I'm riding home at night, I get in so tired
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Till the sores and bows that spell
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E-M-P-T-Y
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But driving west now, half past five
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My skin is cut, my hands are knives
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I could be anyone alive
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But I just can't fit
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And it's too late to quit
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When the night it comes to me
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I wonder if the days I've lived through count
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With the world strung like a rosary
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Through faces moving in the crowd
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What is the color, and the number
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When happiness begins?
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When the night waits in the laurels
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There's a dream
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I've found a clarity I've never known
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Fag-end weeks before I left for school
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The darkness in the pylons
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And the snowcap creosote
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Canceling the faces that we knew
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Did they get the light inside your eyes?
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Those simple words, those lovers' sighs
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The hand is dealt, the card is played
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But I just can't fit
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And it's too late to quit
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I saw them and I knew them all
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Inside a sheet of flame
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I saw them and I knew them all
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Inside a sheet of flame
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When I 'm riding home at night, I get in so tired
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Till the sores and bows that spell
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E-M-P-T-Y
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E-M-P-T-Y
35
E-M-P-T-Y
The Clientele "Reflections After Jane" (...
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