Lyrics:Cold War Kids/Robbers & Cowards
From Geartome
Contents |
We Used to Vacation
I kissed the kids at noon, then stumbled out the room. I caught a cab, ran up a tab on 7th & Flower. Beth's recital I had to ruin, missed my son's graduation, punched the Nichols boy for taking his seat; he gets all that anger from me. Still, things could be much worse -- natural disasters on the evening news. Still, things could be much worse -- we've still got our health; my paycheck in the mail. I promised to my wife and children I'd never touch another drink as long as I live, but even then, it sounds so soothing. This will blow over in time. This will all blow over in time. I'm just an honest man; provide for me and mine. I give a check to tax-deductible charity organizations. Two weeks paid vacation won't heal the damage done; I need another one. Still, things could be much worse -- natural disasters on the evening news. Still, things could be much worse -- we've still got our health; my paycheck in the mail. I promised to my wife and children I'd never touch another drink as long as I live, but even then, it sounds so soothing to mix a gin and sink into oblivion. I promised to my wife and children. That accident left everyone a little shook up, but at the meetings, I felt so empty. This will blow over in time. This will all blow over in time.
Hang Me Up to Dry
Careless in our summer clothes, splashing around in the muck and the mire. Fell asleep with stains caked deep in the knees; what a pain. Now hang me up to dry -- you wrung me out too many times. Now hang me up to dry -- I'm pearly like the whites of your eyes. All mixed up in the wash; hot water bleeding our colors. Now hang me up to dry -- you wrung me out too many times. Now hang me up to dry -- I'm pearly like the whites of your eyes.
Tell Me in the Morning
Stick around Greenleaf, now that she's gone. Take my time when I go to bed, and I sleep long. I'm getting over, mulling over. I said "Could you just wait to tell me in the morning?" Slow it down, slow it down. Lay it low; save it for the morning. I know that you would like, like to change me; make me softer to your voice like a baby. I'm using caution, but you're warning. I wish that you could wait to tell me in the morning. Slow it down, slow it down. Lay it low; save it for the morning. I'm shouting questions like a fistfight. You tried to take me by the arms, lead me into the light. I'm almost over, warring over. I wish that you could wait to tell me in the morning. Slow it down, slow it down. Lay it low; save it for the morning. And I'll tell you one more thing: I confess to self-deception. I broke the lock and I pried it open, then pretended to be stolen. And I am my own thief in the night. Struggled for many years, just to get here, to learn humility, and be my own teacher. I guess it backfired, 'cause my motive was just to take and never care about what I give. Slow it down, slow it down. Lay it low; save it for the morning. I'm shouting questions like a fistfight. You tried to take me by the arms, lead me into the light. I'm almost over, warring over. I wish that you could wait to tell me in the morning. Slow it down, slow it down. Lay it low; save it for the morning. But I'll tell you one more thing: I confess to self-deception. I broke the lock and I pried it open, then pretended to be stolen. I am my own thief in the night.
Hair Down
Conversations that went on terrible paths -- don't talk about that, no, no, don't talk about that. We're coming back loud, and end this conversation. Said you let your hair down; you got enough to go round, oh, mine. Said you let your hair down, but you've been telling me that since the day we met. She's laughing like a choirgirl. When she doubles over, sounds like 'hallelujah'. She's talking to my mother; she's on the phone with my mother. She's talking to my mother; she's looking up at me like I'm a criminal. She bargains like a lawyer; sacrifice like a martyr. She's just her mother's daughter, cutting cloth and washing a pan. Man, we were still just babies, dreaming of the sixties. Man, we were still just babies, dressing up in rags with our wallets full. Now our pockets are shallow, our quart running low. I saw they are empty, but I'm just a fool. Now, Roman in the kitchen told me that true love, it waits, but of all the rules he lives by, that's the one that he hates.
Passing the Hat
Look up from the hymnal, look 'round at the faces of families closing their eyes. We're taking communion and passing the offering hat around at the same time. I reached for the hat and take all the cash, and slide it into my ragged coat sleeve, and leave in its place a note to explain all of the reasons that stealing has led me to leave. If there was a worthy cause for to give to, may I be so bold as to say, the givers not knowing where their money's going is as sinful as throwing away. Stained glasses shine on my red wine, and the sweat of my brow drips to my shaking knees. A small sacrifice to benefit one man's journey away from America's seas. Sweet, sweet sigh of relief. Sweet, sweet, O Baltic Sea. Nobody here knows my name. Call it right or wrong; I bought my ticket just the same.
Saint John
Suppertime in the hole, suppertime in the hole. I shamed my family, shamed my home. Suppertime. (Tell my sister, Jane.) Old Saint John on death row; he's just waiting for a pardon. All the white boys in their Sta-Prest slacks; they're home for the summer from college. Stayin' out late, gettin' rowdy at the bar, they're looking for trouble uptown. They come up my block, 'bout five or six of them, smashing they bottles in the gutter, yellin' all kinds of obscenities about woman and God and law. Another suppertime in the hole, suppertime. I shamed my family, shamed my home. Suppertime. (Tell my sister, Jane.) A young girl turned the corner with a clerk dress on; that girl was my sister. Just got off the night shift at Pennington's Place; just wanna go home, get some sleep. Boys grab her by the waist with the caffeine eyes, their hands all frigid, electric. I picked up a brick from my Papa's front yard, and threw it at the tallest boy's face. Well, blood was streaming like a well got sprung. I couldn't believe what I had just done. Well, that other boy ran and this one stayed on the ground and he would never move again. Old Saint John on death row; he's just waiting for a pardon. All us boys on death row; we're just waiting for a pardon. Yours truly on trial, I testify. Got to keep on running 'til the well gone dry.
Robbers
Sulkin', walkin' round the city after dark. Need protection from street toughs, who clip the locks and rip the doors off rungs, like cowards. And all this life of glorified robbin' from the blind is not easy, you see. Don't think I don't know sympathy; my victims in my shadow starin' back at me. Not me; I'm knockin'. Tiptoe outside a stranger's door, casually let myself in, fill pockets with trinkets, purses, china antique armoirs. And all this life of glorified robbin' from the blind is not easy, you see. Don't think I don't know sympathy; my victims in my shadow starin' back at me. As robbers in my thoughts, they tell me what to think. They're hiding in my clothes, crawling in the kitchen sink.
