| Back then, I had a Buckingham rabbit
 | 
| I’d been lonely since she found Christ
 | 
| Now is the time to depend on the law
 | 
| The nights of my professional life
 | 
| It’s the nights of my professional life
 | 
| I was living in a very young city
 | 
| Grand piano, great lakes, goodbye
 | 
| If you ask me my name, it’s high-low-jack in the game
 | 
| I can track a single bee to the hive
 | 
| Every single game was a blowout
 | 
| And the NASCAR blurred into porn
 | 
| Scenic this, scenic that, don’t fall for the traps
 | 
| Of a man who was never born
 | 
| A man who was never born
 | 
| So the rent became whiskey
 | 
| And then my life became risky
 | 
| And so the rent became whiskey, whiskey
 | 
| Shattered dogs on the rocks
 | 
| At the back of the bar, there’s a couch
 | 
| Where the lonely people go and lie
 | 
| They talk to the honky tonk psychiatrist
 | 
| Into the wee hours of the night
 | 
| Into the wee hours of the night
 | 
| The factory’s on muscle relaxers
 | 
| The pine perfume of hilltown floors
 | 
| The lover, the thinker, the talker, the singer
 | 
| Won’t be lucid for her anymore
 | 
| They won’t be lucid for her anymore
 | 
| And so the rent became whiskey
 | 
| And then my life became risky
 | 
| And so the rent became whiskey, whiskey
 | 
| Shattered dogs on the rocks, shattered dogs on the rocks
 | 
| When you know how I feel, I feel better
 | 
| When you’re fifteen, you wanna look poor
 | 
| You do unto others and run like a mother
 | 
| I don’t wanna look poor anymore
 | 
| No, I don’t wanna look poor anymore
 | 
| Jesus in a runaway shelter
 | 
| Said, «The deaf have pictures of you»
 | 
| From the digital fountains to the analog mountains
 | 
| Let the mirror express the room
 | 
| Let the mirror express the room |