The Old Gospel Choir (Modern Baseball)

There's a tombstone in the brush with your name on the front, But I had no bucks to get "Here lies, they ran out of luck" On the back of it Sharp as a tack but in the sense that you're not smart, just a prick And my finger on my toe, With the sad holes of the weight on my chest On the weight of my chest But every treble in your voice Still echoes in my ears What a good night of sleeper here There's a tombstone in the brush with your name on the front, But I had no bucks to get "Here lies, they ran out of luck" On the back of it Sharp as a tack but in the sense that I'm not smart, just a prick And the fingers and the toes of all of those that show interest in me And from where I'm standing, looks like I'm way long overdue I know what you meant when you said, "Fuck you!" Breaking I've never felt so cool, And now I'm tired and now I'm dead to me Can we act like we never broke each other's hearts? And we smile, I don't know how you felt from the start Oh, that's right, oh, I'm cool, Oh it's goddamn me I sure as hell know one thing, I'm sure you're dead to me