Clothesline
I thought I saw you at the crossroads;
I brought a metal guitar
And heartstrings to barter
Well what a tricky devil you are
I knew you drove a hard bargain
But you’re driving it harder
I see you sipping on your gin
You’ve got a flag of surrender
You’re sly as a madam
I am approaching the origin
Where roads overlap
in a square of macadam
I only get more confused
As I the face gets nearer
You tell me that’s not a muse,
That’s not a muse,
It’s only a mirror
I thought I saw you on the homestead
Out at the basin
Where you wring out the cleaning
Well whatever you’re chasin’
Please don’t mistake
Your labor for your meaning
And I know that you’re bored here
I heard your complaints,
And some of them are valid
Well don’t forget your dear
When you elegize her life
In a country boy ballad
I that heard she overdosed
Somewhere Under a highway road sign
But that’s not a ghost, that’s not a ghost,
It’s only a clothesline
Baby, baby I don’t want to die
Where the stories are tall
Baby, baby I don’t want to die // at all
they say a rolling rock
is where no moss grows
but that’s not a block,
it’s only a crossroads
they say a photo booth
is where to find jesus
but that’s not a truth,
it’s only a thesis
I thought I saw you in the city
The rumors were flying
That you had gone urban
You are living by committee
Eighteen-year women
And eighteen-year bourbon
And the eighteen-wheelers
Still truck to California,
The goods are undercover
I’ve consulted several dealers
You could use a hobby
Or you could use a lover
if it’s love you lacked
maybe that’s why you’re so dreary
You tell me that’s not a fact
That’s not a fact, it’s only a theory