Vārdi: Mountain Goats, The. High Doses #2.

we all woke up that morning,

claw marks on our little faces.

the dull thud from the treetops

the echo in the hollow places

rose up high and lonely

wringing my hands, grinding my teeth

all the triumph overhead

all the disaster underneath



spat out my morning prayers

desperate pleas and viscious lies.

felt the sunlight thugh the grating,

coverered up my eyes.

woke up feeling awful

shook my head to drive the ghosts way

this is just a flesh wound

and it will clear up any day.

but the present i got planned for you pricks,

is gonna be a little harder to fix.

thank god

for small favors

in high doses.



heard the voices through the air vents

listen to them squeal

the great big world is out there

the hidden one beneath my heel

called up my sister in reseda,

left a message at the tone.

all the points where contact fails us

all of the dead spots in the zone



and the acid in my throat

every time i try to talk

the songs that keep me up at night

standing on that solid rock

rose up high and dry and lonely

stumbled coming out the gate

this is just a paper cut

and it will scab over just you wait.

but the cuts that i'll shortly being dealing out,

are gonna give you something to cry about.



thank god

for small favors

in high doses.