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Kevin Devine & The Goddamn Band
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Cotton Crush
The bricks get laid,
And they get torn up,
And laid again,
But the bricks always get torn up again.
Your friends won't wait,
So don't believe that shit,
When they say they'll wait.
Trust me; your friends should not wait for you.
Until you grow up
Sell out at the bar
Quit clouding your head
Quit smacking your arms.
Then a girl walks along
She's humming your song,
With your t-shirt on.
That's when you're done,
Oh, that's when you're done
There's a cotton crush
in the southern states.
But back up here, man, we've got
So much thread and space
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To waste, waste, waste.
There's a microphone
Picking every word up
And it shuts itself off
When it's sure that's it's heard enough
The quiet can scrape
All the calm from your bones,
But maybe it should.
Maybe we need to be hollowed
To get up and grow,
And stop fucking around,
To kick off our braces and start straightening out.
Let's sift through the static
for a simpler sound
Let's sift through the static
for a simpler sound
Simpler sound than the shit that's clouding our heads now
(I will remember that summer as the summer I was taking steroids...)
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