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Bringing me down, |
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I'm running aground |
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Blind in the light of the interstate cars. |
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Passing me by, |
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The busses and semis, |
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Plunging like stones from a slingshot on Mars. |
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But I'm here by the road, |
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Bound to the load |
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That I picked up in ten thousand cafes and bars. |
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Alone with the rush of the drivers who won't pick me up, |
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The highway, the moon, the clouds, and the stars. |
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The black-throated wind keeps on pouring in |
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With its words of a life where nothing is new. |
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Ah, Mother American Night, I'm lost from the light. |
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Ohhh, I'm drowning in you. |
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I left St. Louis, the City of Blues, |
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In the midst of a storm I'd rather forget. |
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I tried to pretend it came to an end |
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Cause you weren't the woman I thought I once met. |
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But I can't deny that times have gone by |
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When I never had doubts or thoughts of regret |
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And I was a man when all this began |
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Who wouldn't think twice about being there yet. |
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The black-throated wind keeps on pouring in. |
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And it speaks of a life that passes like dew. |
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It's forced me to see that you've done better by me, |
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Better by me than I've done by you. |
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What's to be found, racing around, |
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You carry your pain wherever you go. |
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Full of the blues and trying to lose |
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You ain't gonna learn what you don't want to know. |
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So I give you my eyes, and all of their lies |
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Please help them to learn as well as to see |
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Capture a glance and make it a dance |
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Of looking at you looking at me. |
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The black-throated wind keeps on pouring in |
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With its words of a lie that could almost be true. |
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Ah, Mother American Night, here comes the light. |
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I'm turning around, that's what I'm gonna do |
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Goin back home that's what I'm gonna do |
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Turnin' around, |
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That's what I'm gonna do |
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'Cause you've done better by me |
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Than I've done by you. . . |
