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Ash Wednesday
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Brook Pridemore
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1
It's midnight in New Jersey
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I'm beating steps back to Kennedy
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The cold wind blows around me
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But I don't feel a thing:
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I'm already dead
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I'm staring at the ceiling
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Can't keep my head from reeling
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I feel just like Jim Croce
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Singing "This is not my home"
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New York is not my home
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And I can still feel the lump
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On the side of my head where,
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Struck with remorse,
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I tried to beat myself to death
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And I can't pick up my guitar
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Without trying to make you love me again
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You're a million miles away
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I burned your picture weeks ago
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Now every single day's spent cold
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And boneless, home alone,
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Waiting by the phone
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I got a full head every morning,
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I got a clear head every night
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My only friends are Heinekens
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The days are none too bright
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I been waiting for the light
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And I can still feel the lump
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On the side of my head where,
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Struck with remorse,
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I tried to beat myself to death
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And I can't pick up my guitar
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Without trying to make you love me again
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I am a man, I am a dreaming man.
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I am dreaming of not being
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Kicked to the ground again
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I am alive, but I am falling down
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I can't even think of any words
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That rhyme with falling down
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It's midnight in New Jersey
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I'm beating steps back to Kennedy
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And if you asked me twice I'd say, "This whole goddamn city
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Can sink into the sea for all I care right now"
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And I can still feel the lump
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On the side of my head where,
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Struck with remorse,
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I tried to beat myself to death
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And I can't pick up my guitar
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Without trying to make me love you again
Ashes (Updated Lyrics) | Ash Wednesday &...
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