The Mountain Goats — Minor Joan Crawford Vehicle

[Verse 1] Cheap drapes frame the windows No one speaks his mind Buckling asphalt up ahead Smoking wreck behind Stock footage of a ballroom Nearly flooded with champagne We're lost in the desert And it's never going to rain [Verse 2] Every time in this house Someone opens up his mouth All his hopes and dreams Begin their dizzy journey south When the pipes began to freeze We turned on all the taps Tearing a good thing to pieces Bickering over the scraps [Interlude] [Verse 3] Fried clams from the diner Diesel on the wind Gorge ourselves on caviar When the boat comes in Wait for someone neutral To reckon up the score Grease on the walls of the kitchen Dried blood on the living room floor [Verse 4] You there in your nightgown Head all full of dreams All the things we'd sewn together Splitting at the seams Try to cauterize the wound Just get nowhere fast Holding each other for dear life Shielding ourselves from the blast