Hood, Jim Filmography

• The Navajo Trail
  1945, role: actor , character name: Rusty Hanover

Hood, Jim Filmography

• A Grave Mistake
  2012, role: actor , character name: Banker

Hood, Jim Filmography

• Five Friends
  2010, role: actor , character name: Himself

• Lyrics: play full screen play karaoke
• Phone Booth In Heaven - Jim White
• If Jesus Drove A Motor Home - Jim White
• God Was Drunk When He Made Me - Jim White
• Buzzards Of Love - Jim White
• Bluebird - Jim White
• Alabama Chrome - Jim White
• Wrong Kind Of Love - Jim White
• King Of The Road - Jim White
• Ghost-Town Of My Brain - Jim White
• Christmas Day - Jim White
• 10 Miles To Go On A 9 Mile Road - Jim White
• Turquoise House - Jim White
• The Wound That Never Heals - Jim White
• Land Called Home - Jim White
• That Girl From Brownsville Texas - Jim White
• Strange Candy - Jim White
• Plywood Superman - Jim White
• Objects In Motion - Jim White
• Love That Never Fails - Jim White
• Jailbird - Jim White
• Hey! You Going My Way??? - Jim White
• Handcuffed To A Fence In Mississippi - Jim White
• Fruit Of The Vine - Jim White
• Diamonds To Coal - Jim White
• Crash Into The Sun - Jim White
• Corvair - Jim White
• Combing My Hair In A Brand New Style - Jim White
• Bound To Forget - Jim White
• Borrowed Wings - Jim White

Oh where are we going? Oh where have we been? Our hush-a-bye angel, she's safe and tucked in. I drive around town, while
you sit and watch the rain. There's what you think with your heart and what I feel with my brain. For those who plant
nothing but the seeds of the falling there is a phone booth in heaven that no one is calling. It sits on a highway that
leads nowhere. I'll drop you a line next time I find myself there. Remembering them days, how we wore our weakness well.
There's some say that heaven can't exist without hell, well if the proof's in the pudding, and that axiom's true, somehow
the heart of the matter escaped me and you. For those who plant nothing but the seeds of the falling there is a phone
booth in heaven that no one is calling. Though the ghosts of redemption might whisper odd promises, I for one don't put
much faith in them specters. Now the blueprint for sorrow is just to put off the hurt 'til the price of tomorrow becomes
more than love's worth. 'Til what's begged and what's stole is just the hollow remains of some beautiful failure that we
cling to in vain. For those who plant nothing but the seeds of the falling there is a phone booth in heaven that no one is
calling. The truest word heard there is the word that's unspoken 'cause you can't mend what the Good Lord designed to be
broken. Oh where are we going? My darling oh where? Our sweetheart's in dreamland, please let her stay there. We are two

If Jesus drove a motor home, I wonder would he drive pedal to the metal, or real slow? Checking out the stereo. Cassette
playing Bob Dylan, motivation tapes. Tricked up Winnebago, with the tie-dye drapes. If Jesus drove a motor home... If Jesus
drove a motor home, and he come to your town, would you try to talk to him? Would you follow him around? Honking horns at
the drive thru. Double-parking at the mall. Midnight at the Waffle House - Jesus eating eggs with ya'll. If Jesus drove a
motor home... Buddha on a motorcycle, Mohammed in a train. Here come Jesus in the passing lane... but everybody smile, 'cause
everybody's grooving. Ain't nothing like the feeling of moving with a bona fide motorized savior. Now if we all drove
motor homes, well maybe in the end, with no country to die for, we could just be friends. One world as our highway. Ain't

Jesus and the fiery furnace.
Devil and the deep blue sea.
Preacher say I'm gonna burn in hell for all eternity.
But when I have my judgement day and I lock eyes with my savior, well,
This is what I'm gonna tell him when he asks about my behavior...
I'm gonna say;
God was drunk when he made me.
God was drunk when he made me.
God was drunk when he made me.
And that's why I'm so crazy.
Jesus and the fiery furnace.
Devil and the deep blue sea.
God was drunk when he made me...but that's okay 'cause
I forgive Him.
See if it was God who made forgiveness, then before that he musta made sin.
And who built the house of brotherly love, then let the Devil come dancing in?
If it was God that saved the miracle child from the peril of the fiery flame,
Well then it musta been him that killed the two hundred others just to glorify
His name
That's why I say;
God was drunk when he made me.
God was drunk when he made me.
God was drunk when he made me.
And that's why I spout heresy.
Jesus and the fiery furnace,
Devil and the deep blue sea.

Wonder if you know, what you see ain't what you get. Wonder have you learned a dirty word - did you forget? 'Cause
there's talk on the street... say sugar taste sweet... but it'll tear you apart... when what's easy on the eyes... is hard on the
heart... when you're loving ...loving on them buzzards. See the shiny-winged angel things catch your eye in the big parade.
You think you got it made. It's all monkey see, monkey do, but in the end the joke's on you. It ain't nothing but a big
charade. Watch the money talk... see the suckers walk... feel the lonely ache... take its toll, soul-sucking pain, yeah.
Everybody knows... that's just how it goes... when you're loving, loving on them buzzards. Funny how you feel, like a thing is
real, just 'cause it feels good - You know what I'm saying? Yeah yeah. Funny how you run straight for the gun when you
know when the fun is done ain't nothing but hell to pay. See the face in the mirror, it looks alone and afraid. Well, if
you think you a player, most times it's you that's getting played by them buzzards buzzards buzzards buzzards, them

Bluebird on a telephone line. How are you? I'm feeling fine. Sweetly do I whisper your name. Lonely solo taxi ride to a
cheap motel on the wrong side of the tracks. The facts are tricky to explain. Cold front bearing down, blowing in from
Birmingham. By dawn the window's wet with icy rain. Behind fourteen doors, a sad parade of paramours are throwing little
white rocks at sorrow's window pane. Me, I've found someone to love more than the rain. Salvation Army ringing bell,
kingdom come and wishing wells. Hey Santa Claus I see your junkie eyes. It's the devil and the deep blue sea, with old
friends I hope I never see again all tangled up with misery and lies. The lonely hiss of passing cars feeds the ache of
ancient scars, like ghosts beneath my bed rattling chains. No good luck charm or remedy ever proved to soothe my sanity
nor bad medicine served to ease my pain. Had to find someone to love more than the rain. Now, old habits will die hard.
This pile of junk setting in my yard... souvenirs from the wrecking ball of dreams. You spend a lifetime tearing temples
down, it gets to feel like hallowed ground is a shallow grave where ne'er the bluebird sings. Last time home when I played
this song, you said "Dad, it's sad, and way too long." And I pulled you close and held you in my arms. Yes, salvation
wears a thin disguise 'cause I can see the heaven in your eyes. And I thank God them years I searched were not in vain...

Sunday I am young and wild, Monday I go lame. Tuesday I start twitching, Wednesday I'm insane. Thursday I lay dying,
Friday I'm quite dead. Saturday I get carried away by things better left unsaid. But heaven ain't no place, brother, and
love ain't no word sister. And prison ain't no building made of iron bars and stone. You can seek the rhyme and reason,
but in the realm of the unknown you won't catch no true reflections in that "Alabama Chrome." For there's mountains you
will scale with ease, yet molehills where you stumble. Sins you so regret and yet other sins that you enjoy. Harps can beg
forgiveness, and the guitars can scream pain, but the contradictions are larger than any language can explain. For in the
secret territory where the preachers come to steal the jewel of your heart, for they have no treasure of their own, there
lies a sacred window, in your hand the perfect stone. You'd throw it, but you arms are bound 'round with that "Alabama
Chrome." The heat it is withering, humidity smothering. Strip of silver tape, a sly lie covering dent in the side of the
redneck ride. Going deep for the Crimson Tide. Yeah! Gonna bump to the thump of the Selma slammer. Wanna jump up and down
like a wack jackhammer. Sing a little 'Sweet Home Alabama' - Jimmy gimme wink like a big flimflammer. Bone tired and so
weary of treating truth as a lie, I been hunkered down in the bunker of some fools alibi. Squint harder you will see the
slim tether of the saints. It's whipping wild in the hurricane of all that is and all that ain't. 'Cause there's angels in
the shed mother and spiders in the bed brother and ghosts inside my head father, no I am not alone. My mind is teeth
without a mouth, my thoughts are marrow without bone. My eyes are blinded by a thousand layers of that god damn "Alabama

Nothing's prettier than a pretty girl digging a heart shaped hole in the ground. Hear that sound? That's the fortress 'round your heart crumbling down. Feeling like...like you kinda...like the feeling...feel like falling...head over heels...into the hole...that she's digging...and you're thinking you should go...'cause you know...that she wants the wrong kind of love, wants the kind of love you can't give her. She wants the wrong kind of love, but you don't hold that against her, 'cause if that's the kind of love she wants, then that's just the kind of love you'll have to give her. Come beg, borrow, steal, or fight, 'cause you never felt nothing so real or right as this wrong...wrong kind of love. Like a tombstone in a snowstorm, she's so cool, pale and gloomy. Her affection for affliction's just sleight of hand---a stolen picture taken from some loving fool, who just like you, mutely surrendered...and this snapshot of the future is a map of your undoing...'cause you know that you should go but you don't go...though she wants the wrong kind of love, wants the kind of love you can't can give her. She wants the wrong kind of love, but you don't hold that against her, 'cause if that's the kind of love she wants, then that's just the kind of love you'll have to get her. Come beg, borrow, steal, or fight 'cause you never felt nothing so real or right as this wrong...wrong kind of love. Your love's a tale told by idiots, signifying nothing more than a wise hunger for destruction, for in the temple of your loving, scrawled upon the wall just there behind the portrait of yourself there lies a prayer written in your hand, it says, "Girl, come and destroy me." And you know...why you don't go. 'Cause you want the wrong kind of love, want the kind of love no one can give you. You want the wrong kind of love, and she's just the girl to give it to you. And if you beg to object, well I will beg you to reconsider 'cause this little twist in the story is just the seed of your salvation... 'cause this wrong...wrong kind of love...wrong kind of love...

Trailer for sale or rent, rooms to let fifty cents
No phone, no pool, no pets, I ain't got no cigarettes
I am a, two hours of pushin' broom buys a
Eight by ten four-bit room
I'm a man of means by no means, caause I'm a king of the road
Third boxcar midnight train, destination Bangor, Maine
Old worn out suit and shoes, I don't pay no union dues
I smoke old stogies I have found, short but not too big around
I'm a man of means by no means,cause i'm a king of the road
King of The Road. I'm just a King of the Road
I know every engineer on every train
All the children and all the good names
every handout in every town
And if it's locked itt ain't locked if no-one's around
I say...
Trailer for sale or rent, rooms to let fifty cents
I'm a man of means by no means, king of the road
'Cause i'm a King of the Road
I'm just a King of the Road

I like to go out walking in the ghost-town of my brain.
Kick the rusted scrap-iron of my memories and dreams.
Yeah, here's a busted compass...look, the needle's standing still.
Much as some folks hate to lose their way, me, I pray to God that I will.
I got a confession; I never ever had no appetite for pain.
So it's a mystery to me why I like walking in the ghost-town...ghost-town of my brain.
I'm on a coal train headed south, guess we're bound for Birmingham.
Thick as thieves with a black girl twice as messed-up as I am.
The smile upon her face betrays the sorrow in her heart.
Like the testimony of a fun house mirror that some fool broke apart.
Girl listen here; you're just a leaf caught in God's secret hurricane.
And on this cold and dark wild midnight you are dancing in the ghost-town...ghost-town of my brain.
Feel them magnets in the shadows?
Hear the voice of tranger virtue?
Take no comforts with them specters 'cause you know that they can hurt you.
Sweet mother load of secrets, feed my wild and endless hunger.
Seek the misty trail beyond the veil where the world gets torn asunder.
Gimme needles in the haystacks, Lord and riddles in the rain...

Where in the world did you come from my dear?Did some mysterious voice tell you I'd still be here? I bought this ticket to Mobile, but I been stranded all day...p.a. said the bus broke down ten miles away from the station.So seldom a door...so seldom a key...so seldom a lock like the love between you and me. But seldom comes happiness without the pain of the devil in the details since I saw the smile on your face as I was crying in a Greyhound station on Christmas Day...in 1998.The burden of love is the fuel of bad grammar.You stutter and stammer--what a bitch to convey the crux of the matter, when the words you must utter are hopelessly tangled in the memories and scars you show no one. So seldom a door...so seldom a key...so seldom a hit like the hurt you put on me.But seldom comes happiness without the pain of the devil in the details since I saw the smile on your face as I was crying in a Greyhound station on Christmas Day...in 1998. I remember quite clearly, a bad Muzak version of James Taylor's big hit, called "Fire and Rain" was playing as you crouched down and tearfully kissed me, and I thought, "Damn, what good fiction I will mold from this terrible pain." So seldom a door...so seldom a key...so seldom a gift like the gift you gave me. But seldom comes happiness without the pain of the devil in the details since I saw the smile on your face as I was crying in a Greyhound station on Christmas Day...in 1998. Amazing grace, how sweet the smile upon the face I never thought I'd see you again...especially here in this Greyhound station...on Christmas Day...in 1998

They tell me miracles abound now more than ever, but I don't care. They say it's better to be blessed than it is to be clever, but I don't care. 'Cause I got 10 miles to go on a 9 mile road, and it's a rocky rough road, but I don't care. For life's nothing if not a blind rambling prayer, you keep your head held high, a'walking and a'talking 'til the power of Love deliver you there. The power of Love deliver you there. The power of Love deliver you there. The power of Love deliver you...you.... You don't get nothing for free, 'less of course you steal it, at least that's what the people say. The sad irony of Love is how so seldom you feel it, yet it's all you dream about, night and day. From the splinter in the hand, to the thorn in the heart, to the shotgun to the head, you got no choice but to learn to glean solace from pain or you'll end up cynical or dead. Me, I got 10 miles to go on a 9 mile road and it's a rocky rough road, but I don't care.
For life's nothing if not a blind rambling prayer,
you keep your head held high, a'walking and a'talking and a'talking and a'walking, 'til the power of Love deliver you there. The power of Love deliver you there. The power of Love deliver you there. The power of Love deliver you...THERE!!!Sometimes you throw yourself into the sea of faith, and the sharks of doubt come and they devour you. Other times you throw yourself into the sea of faith only to find the treasure lost in the shipwreck inside of you! There ain't no guarantees, none of that nonsense like on tv, just gotta roll the dice, and take your lumps. You're gonna get yourself knocked down, so better learn to stand back up, for those who dwell on disaster let sorrow be their master. Me, I got 10 miles to go on a 9 mile road and it's a rocky rough road, but I don't care. 'Cause life's nothing if not a blind rambling prayer, you keep your head held high, a'walking and a'talking 'til the power of Love deliver you there. The power of Love deliver you there.

I'll never fit in so why should I try?
How I'm I ever gonna pass for a normal guy?
I can't wear no suit and tie, gotta let my freak flag fly
If I walk the straight and narrow one more day I think I'll die
Because I wanna live in a turquoise house
With a turquoise garden and a turquoise yard
Drive around town in a turquoise car
Find a turquoise girl with a turquoise heart
Now faith is a riddle and love is a dream
Things are seldom what they seem
If you say your prayers at night and comb your hair just right
You might not feel like you're in hell but then again you might
Me, I wanna live in a turquoise house
With a turquoise garden and a turquoise yard
Drive around town in a turquoise car
Find a turquoise girl with a turquoise heart
I want turquoise carpets and turquoise shoes
Turquoise papers with all the turquoise news
Turquoise only, not teal or aquamarine
I've seen my future and it's a shade of blueish green
Now I can't turn back, there ain't no way
(He's going turquoise today)
When word gets out there'll be hell to pay
(He's going turquoise today)
This life's not for the faint
But you can't be what you ain't
I know I'll never truly be myself
Till I get me that turquoise paint
Because I wanna live in a turquoise house
With a turquoise garden and a turquoise yard
Drive around town in a turquoise car
Find a turquoise girl with a turquoise heart
I wanna live in a turquoise house
With a turquoise garden and a turquoise yard
Drive around town in a turquoise car
Find a turquoise girl with a turquoise heart
A turquoise girl with a turquoise heart
A turquoise girl in a turquoise dress
And a skirt and a shirt

Long about an hour before sunrise
she drags his body down to the edge of the swollen river
wrapped in a red velvet curtain stolen from the movie theater where she works. Quiet as a whisper, under the stanchions of a washed-out bridge she cuts him loose...and watches as the flood waters spin him around once, then carry him away. Then she removes the golden ring upon her finger...and she throws it in. And I wonder; Baby why don't you cry? Baby why don't you... Baby why don't you cry? Three days later in a bar in southern Mississippi she meets a man by the name of Charles Lee. She introduces herself to him as "Lee Charles" "What a coincidence." he says...and one week later they are married. He wakes up one night six months down the line to find her staring at him in the oddest way. When he says, "Honey, what's wrong?" she says, "Oh nothing dear...except that tears are a stupid trick of God."
And by the time they find his body six weeks later... Well hell, she's a thousand miles away. And I wonder; Baby why don't you cry? Baby why don't you... Baby why don't you cry?
She runs from devils. She runs from angels. She runs from the ghost of her father and five different uncles. Blinded by their memory, seared by their pain, she'd like to kill 'em all...then kill 'em all again. She don't think much about what she's done or the funny feelings that she feels. No, she don't. To her it's just a condition she picked up as a child... a little thing she calls, "the wound that never heals", she calls it, "the wound that never heals" And I wonder; Baby why don't you cry? Baby why don't you...

Though the world is sleeping, my eyes are open. Yet it's me that's dreaming that I'm flying over mountaintops. I am
crossing an ocean where at the end I see, I see a beautiful far away land called home. And them stars they sure are
pretty, and while I do admire the distance their light, it travels, to shine down on me... still I would go further than the
furthest star shine... just to find myself walking in a beautiful faraway land called home. Wanna find myself walking in a
beautiful faraway land called home. And you can take all the money in all of the banks. You can take all the fame in
Hollywood. You can take all the pretty girls in Paris, France. You can take my own name if you think it'll do you some
good. You can take all them things that perish, and you can throw them all right in the sea. 'Cause ain't but only one
thing that matters. Ain't but only one jewel in this world. Ain't but only one feeling of all of life's feeling that I

I say "God, if you ain't smiling on me, then you ain't no friend of mine." It's late at night and this motel room's
drunk, I been listening to the lonesome wind crying. My best friend once said, "Jim, what you cling to, that's the thing
that you had best forget. For ain't no rose bed ever gonna bloom in an untended field of regrets." Guess I been busy
killing time counting bullet holes in state line signs. I led a life of lonely drifting trying to rise above the buzzards
in my mind. You get dizzy chasing 'round the tail of what you need to leave behind. Oh sweet Jesus, won't you help me?
'Cause all I'm trying to do is plant them seeds of love with that girl from Brownsville, Texas. Midnight radio, a crackly
white gospel station kicking out the sounds of some half-assed revival. Me, I never much cared for the feelings you get
quoting scriptures from out of the Bible. For as the crow flies I know only one cure for a permanent tear in your eye. You
gotta crank like hell that rope on old sorrow's well 'til the day that the bucket comes up dry.
Now dreams are just
prayers without the put on airs... and though my history of dreams is a scandal of back-assward schemes and romantic
disasters where Lord, you dealt me more cards than I could handle. Still from the lips of this half-hearted sinner comes
the pledge of a half-baked saint. 'Cause Lord I might finally be willing to become the religious fool you always wanted me

It was 1967, I was watching a TV show
When the glowing screen went blank
I looked out of my window
I saw 27 crows perched on my antenna
In the glass a familiar face appeared
A man whose name I don't remember
Now mother's milk is dandy
When you're a little baby
But as the wheels of time grind you down
You get a taste for that stranger candy
Back in December of 81
I saw my dear old friend John
Fall down drunk at the Christmas parade
With his children looking on
His wife she'd lost her mind
She was committed for a time
She took refuge when they set her free
In some weird eastern philosophy
Yeah, that mother's milk is dandy
When you're a little baby
But as the wheels of time grind you down
You get a taste for stranger candy
This life they say is hard
But still it's all you know
You can close your eyes and try to run away
But pray, where will you go?
Yeah, life is all you know
Death is dark and strange
It's the near and worrisome voice you hear
Forever calling out your name
As I was walking down the street
Last week in Portland Oregon
I found the last of many keys I lost
I picked it up and I grinned
'Cause sometimes them crows take flight
And if you can shoo em from your brain
You will find yourself in the nick of time
Calling the devil by his name
Calling the devil by his name
Yeah, mother's milk is dandy
When you're a little baby
But as the wheels of time grind you down

Down at the drugstore where they sell medicine
Back in the corner stands a plywood Superman
He never saves nobody from nothing
He just leans against the wall looking sad
Me, I go climbing on my broken ladder
Aiming for high places but I never quite can
Lay two hands on the heart of the matter
Sometimes I feel like that plywood Superman, Superman
Last night at the truck stop the cashier at the diesel desk
Stopped to talk to me as I paid for my beer
She's single with two kids, says she loves Las Vegas
Her dream's one day some rich man will take her away from here
When she goes climbing on her broken ladder
She's searching for some sweet, far off promised land
But nobody never breaks free of nothing
Wrapped in the arms of a plywood Superman, Superman
Now my old daddy, he worked in a factory
And he used to beat on me with his mind not his hands
And though for ten years he's laid in that grave in Birmingham
To this day I still hear him saying what a useless thing I am
When I go climbing on my broken ladder
I'm searching for something but what I don't understand
Is how you can climb forever and still never reach nothing
Trapped in your life like some plywood Superman, Superman
Plywood Superman, plywood Superman

Objects in motion tend to stay that way. You can't waste the whole damn day loving what you need to cast away. Case in
point, just yesterday I found a suitcase full of love letters floating down a cool brown river. Unsigned and undelivered,
they set my mind to wandering as to the history of the unknown writer. Did she marry, did she run, was she old, was she
young? Was her heart undone by the cruel business of loving? These objects in motion. These objects in motion. Objects in
motion tend to stay that way... or so I learned on the riverbank just yesterday. For shortly thereafter I beheld as if in a
dream the body of a young girl adrift beneath the surface of the cool brown water. My friends so unnerved was I by this
cruel apparition that I let loose of that suitcase and it tumbled right back in the river. Then spellbound I watched as a
halo of love letters formed a circle on the surface of the water right over her body and drifted away. These objects in
motion. These objects in motion. Objects in motion tend to stay that way. You can't waste the whole damn day loving what
you need to cast away. For from the flame of love comes the cinder of regret. Sometimes the thing you cling to most is the

Devils' tools not hammer, nor nails. Everyone loving feels unnamed fears. Call them hummingbirds, 'cause the real words no one can say...hey-hey-hey...It's not why I'm here, it's who I'm with. From baby's breath to the rattle of death...I seek the love that never fails. I seek the love...the love that never fails. Oh, beautiful world! I won't go there. There ain't no room for dreamers in heaven. Silver linings seldom appear---except in horrible storms. See, it's not why I'm here, it's who I'm with. From baby's breath to the Angel of Death I seek the love that never fails. I seek the love...the love that never fails. Now hope's a tricky...a tricky little snare. I'm stuck on the corner of "Confused & I Don't Know". Been waiting for that long, long, long, long overdue ride home. See it's not why I'm here, it's who I'm with. From baby's breath 'till the final kiss of death. I seek the love that never fails. I seek the love...the love that never fails. Jesus and the fiery furnace. Devil and the deep blue sea. God was drunk when he made me, but that's okay, 'cause I forgive him.

Dixie is a scourge and a scar
And a girl in my heart and a state of mind
Jesus is the man with a plan
He's a short haired Mexican friend of mine
This small town crowd should've dragged you down
Can't leave your past behind
Wipers in the rain tap out time
Coming up on a new state line
I wanna be a jailbird
From the prison of my own damn mind
Gonna get me a fast car
Set out and see what I can find
Brick up the well of tears and disappear
Leave myself behind
Gonna be a jailbird
From the prison of my own damn mind
Midnight, take a short cut
Through the downtown cemetery
No stepping on graves
Check the statue of the Virgin Mary
She's catching moonlight in the shadows
Revealing spider webs
Can you see the black widow
Hung between our lady's hands?
I wanna be a jailbird
From the prison of my own damn mind
Gonna get me a fast car
Set out and see what I can find
Brick up the well of tears and disappear
Leave myself behind
Gonna be a jailbird
From the prison of my own damn mind
Now used to be when I was young
I was so hungry for oblivion
My thoughts would linger
Like fingers in a deadly web
But in time as sorrow showed it's face
In kind I learned to ache for grace
To work and pray to one day
Be delivered whole, alive and free
I wanna be a jailbird
From the prison of my own damn mind
Gonna get me a fast car
Set out and see what I can find
Brick up the well of tears and disappear
Leave myself behind
Gonna be a jailbird

Bus stop rain...busted power train..got a broke down '69 LTD...
I hocked my tools...to buy my brain...a funeral wreath...from the FTD
Blank billboards on the highway of life. Counterfeit bills in the neon lights.
This stick-shift driven saw-dust dream, show-biz sho' ain't what it seems.
Little hipster dufus with the guitar in a coffin. I been copping his licks about every so often.
Then I flip-flop, go the other way...
I rip off the dude where the colored girls say; doo-doo-do-doo-doo-do-doo-doo-do-do-doooo-dooooo
See, I cut my teeth on the white lines of life's endless lonesome highways.
Taking stock in the horizon... shouting at every fool that come my way---
"HEY!" I been shouting,
"HEY! Can you gimme a ride? Are you going my way?"
"HEY! Can you gimme a ride? Someone gimme a ride!"
but ain't no one going my way.
Now downtown they got the prison of shame.
See the castaways of the Hollywood game?
Tricked out whores with invisible pains.
Cardboard people, dancing in the rain...
to the same old tune, circling like a vulture with the busted juke-box of the popular culture.
If it ain't got a beat, they won't put you on the street.
Heavy on the bass, light on the feet.
I meet the street poets in the bummed out bars.
I hum my single as I jingle down the
"Walk Of Stars"
with the geeks and the freaks and the crooks and the hookers---
the burn-outs of life's pressure cookers.
Now, these are my people, my church without a steeple,
and though I never waste a tissue on an incidental issue,
still I sympathize, 'cause I realize when I see the sorrow in their eyes.
'Cause I cut my teeth on the white lines of life's endless lonesome highways.
Taking stock in the horizon... shouting at every fool that come my way---
"HEY!" I been shouting,
"HEY! Can you gimme a ride? Are you going my way?"
"HEY! Can you gimme a ride? Someone gimme a ride!"
but ain't no one going my way.
Now in the field of my mind
I'm plowing the topsoil of my memory.
Digging up bones and skeletones--- rusty relics from my past.
Gotta put a new shine on the twists of time, redefine this old cemetery...
Clear out the weeds, sow new seeds, sure I'm scared, but still I'm gonna carry on.
'Cause never did a body find their way home without showing first firm as a stone
the conviction, the strength the courage that it takes to make a journey start
For you got to be true, you got to be strong,
'specially when the long road home
leads smack through the smoking ruins of your broken heart.And I know.
'Cause I cut my teeth on the white lines of life's endless lonesome highway...
Taking stock in the horizon...shouting at every fool that come my way---
"HEY!" I been shouting,
"HEY! Can you gimme a ride? Are you going my way?"
"HEY! Can you gimme a ride? Someone gimme a ride!"

I'm handcuffed to a fence in Mississippi.
My girlfriend blows a boozy good-bye kiss.
I see flying squirrels and nightmares of stigmata.
Then awakening to find my Trans-Am gone.
Still, I'm feeling pretty good about the future.
Yeah, everything is peaches but the cream.
I'm handcuffed to a fence in Mississippi,
where things is always better than they seem.
Things is always better than they seem.
I see the guitar that my cousin played in prison,
floating with the tv in the swimming pool.
I'm calling for the owner of the motel,
then noticing the bloodstain on the door.
I'm reaching for the shoes under the bushes,
just in time to hear the sirens sing.
I'm handcuffed to a fence in Mississippi,
where things is always better than they seem.
Things is always better than they seem.
You know freedom's just a stupid superstition,
'cause life's a highway that you travel blind.
It's true that having fun's a terminal addiction.
What good is happiness, when it's just a state of mind?
For in the prison of perpetual emotion,
we're all shackled to the millstone of our dreams.
Me, I'm handcuffed to a fence in Mississippi,
where things is always better than they seem.

Out in the junkyard in the pines
They're working over time
Hacking back them vines
That are eating up their minds
Fruit of the vine, that old fruit of the vine
We're doing 30 in a 45
Disregarding highway signs
You learn to take your time
Down south in the summertime
Fruit of the vine, that old fruit of the vine
It ain't no crime in being alive
It ain't no sin, we're just trying to get by
Lead our lives one day at a time
Hand to mouth, low down in the dirty old south
Living on the fruit of the vine
Now some say love come COD
Others turn to G O D
Cash it in on PCP, IOUs and IEDs
Fruit of the vine, that old fruit of the vine
Scraps of paper in a tree
Photographs and memories
Train wrecks of tangled dreams
Lives coming apart at the seams
Fruit of the vine, that old fruit of the vine
It ain't no crime in being alive
It ain't no sin, we're just trying to get by
Lead our lives one day at a time
Hand to mouth, low down in the dirty old south
Just living on the fruit of the vine
It ain't no crime in being alive
It ain't no sin, we're just trying to get by
Lead our lives one day at a time
Hand to mouth, low down in the dirty old south
Living on the fruit of the vine
Now that old vine, it never sleeps
And it strangles as it creeps
Out in the junkyard in the pines
Fall asleep and you will die
Fruit of the vine, that old fruit of the vine
You think you're gonna get your little piece of the sky
Up in the sweet by and by?
As for me I believe I'll try to get mine before I die
Fruit of the vine, that old fruit of the vine
'Cause it ain't no crime in being alive
It ain't no sin, we're just trying to get by
Lead our lives one day at a time
Hand to mouth, low down in the dirty old south
Living on the fruit of the vine, living on the fruit of the vine

It's the twilight hour
As the sun goes down
I see a flatbed Ford with a scrapyard load
Rattle off through town
The railroad crossing lights flash on
There ain't no train in sight
A crescent moon will soon ascend
As day gives way to night
And I feel home
And I think how far away
I got from home
Back in the bad old days
But I'm done turning diamonds to coal
Now just before dinner time
This old drunk comes knocking on my door
Say he's looking for some girl who lived here
Twenty-seven years ago
The radio in the kitchen is playing
'Papa Was A Rolling Stone'
And as he strolls away into the night
And the streetlights flicker on
I get to thinking about home
And how sometimes there come a day
When I try to get back home
But all you can do is run away
But I'm done turning diamonds to coal
In love we find out who we are
In sorrow we abide
Our strength's revealed by what we build
From the broken things inside
But a day will come when you will know
Which way you must choose to go
To travel on and live alone
Or turn yourself around and try to get back home
Try to get back home
And now way up high two jet planes
Weave spider webs across the sky
As that flatbed Ford has dropped his load
Now there he goes swinging by
And the silence gathering 'round this house
Makes such a lovely sound
That I know for sure that I am cured
From turning diamonds, from turning diamonds to coal
'Cause I feel home and I'm done turning diamonds to coal
Yes, I'm done turning diamonds to coal
Yes, I'm done turning diamonds to coal
Yes, I'm done turning diamonds to coal

When too much beauty numbs the mind
When what you see ain't what you get
When digging deeper what you find
Is skeletons best left behind
We go crash into the sun
Ain't enough bullets in this here gun
We got cash, now who's talking trash?
Jumping up and down on the bus downtown
We are brash, we all fall down
We take out our brains and shake 'em all around
It's a gas, a real kick in the pants
Everywhere we go we bring the house down shouting
?Hoo, hoo, who do you know and do you blow minds??
And when the monkey see what the monkey do
Some fool's checking out the chump in you
They got magic hoops for jumping through
You let some space case say false is true
We go crash into the sun
Ain't enough bullets in this here gun
We got cash, now who's talking trash?
Jumping up and down on the bus downtown
We are brash, we all fall down
We take out our brains and shake 'em all around
It's a gas, a real kick in the pants
Everywhere we go we bring the house down shouting
?Hoo, hoo, who do you know and do you blow minds?
Do you blow minds?"
The further you go the deeper it gets
With so much to remember, it's fun to forget
Surrender your mind to life's sweet blindfold
Hey, don't think twice just do as you're told
Go on and crash into the sun
Ain't enough bullets in this here gun
We got cash, now who's talking trash?
Jumping up and down and the bus downtown
We are brash, we all fall down
We take out our brains and shake 'em all around
It's a gas, a real kick in the pants
Everywhere we go we bring the house down
We go crash into the sun
Ain't enough bullets in this here gun
We got cash, now who's talking trash?
Jumping up and down on the bus downtown
We are brash, we all fall down
We take out our brains and shake 'em all around
It's a gas, a real kick in the pants
Everywhere we go we bring the house down shouting
?Hoo, who do you know, hoo, who do you know?
Hoo, who do you know?"
And do you, and do you, and do you, and do you, and do you
And do you, and do you, do you blow minds?
Just ask him, do you blow minds?
You gotta blow minds, can you blow minds?

Sunlight in the weeds...I wish that I was blind...to the ghosts
dancing in the breeze...blowing through my mind.
Got a Corvair in my yard. It hasn't run in fifteen years.
It's a home for the birds now. It's no longer a car.
Last night I dreamed that I was swimming in a sea.
Like always, with everything I went in too deep.
Got a Corvair in my yard. It hasn't run in fifteen years.
It's a home for the birds now. It's no longer...a car.
Got a simple friend out west, and in the blink of an eye,

I found a blue hair comb with a busted tooth gonna comb out my hair in this telephone booth gonna comb out love, gonna
comb out hate gonna get me a new look and I can't wait. I took a lethal dosage of dope in my youth, bit the hook of Jesus
- Oh! The terrible truth. I swallowed it hard for a damn good while,
but now I'm combing my hair in a brand new style. Combing my hair yeah. Combing my hair yeah. Combing my hair yeah.
Combing my hair in a brand new style. I take a midnight stroll in a Love's supermarket. I like passing the rows of candy
for sale. See the pale pretty girls in the magazines? Smiling at me like they know what I mean. You take your candy dandy,
your cheap girls - ruthless! Soul suckers all gonna end up toothless! Gumming the truth of life's discount aisle. Me I'm
combing my hair in a brand new style.
He used a blue hair comb with a busted tooth to comb out the tangles of his
messed up youth. Returning in glory to the scene of his trial, he was combing his hair in a brand new style. Yeah the
sorry story of his assorted crimes - his tribulations, his suffering mind all wiped clean and left miles behind. See him
prowling the street? He got the mojo smile. He's combing his hair in a brand new style.
I don't want no hoodoos, no
voodoo gurus, no spooked out priesty-beasty, no strippers with pasties, self-professed saviors of my soul, no low-down
top-secret CIA moles, no crackpot psychopathic behavior specialists, no shriners, no shiners, no decisive moment
existentialists, that's right, no vegetable, no mineral, no institution gonna disrupt the constitution of my ingenious
hairdo solution - see I got my sly pomade, my jelly in a jar! Now don't you mistake me for no movie star, 'cause I'm just

Fools wind blowing up brown bible verses. Dust storm of memory. Truck stop reverie. 3 AM in my home town, not a soul stirring around. Mr. Trucker Man, don't slow down in this little town. 'Cause I'm traveling faster than the speed of regret. What I was born knowing I was bound to forget. In the blindness of being, what I was born seeing I was just plain bound to forget. Yes, I was just plain bound to forget. Now my tank run dry two hours out of Tucson by three little crosses on the side of the highway. Still as a box full of busted watches, I settle debts with the dead and keep right on...I keep on keeping on. Pedal to the metal on the wide open highway. Criss-cross the high plains of bright-eyed solitude, I tailgate a truck-load of tabula rasa...'til my mind go clearer than the highway west of El Paso. Guess I'm traveling faster than the speed of regret. What I was born knowing I was bound to forget. In the blindness of being what I was born seeing, I was just plain bound to forget. Yes I was just plain bound to forget. Now, 24/7 in the end my friend, gotta go at God's speed, no never relent, lest the soul-sucking, sneaky-deaky, belly-aching past like a ssssnake in the grasssssssss ssssstrike and bury your assssssss. So keep your eyes on the prize on the distant horizon. Be wary of the wind and the bad moon rising. Knowing in your going, somehow, some way, that you'll out-run your shadow...yes you will, one fine day. 'Cause you're traveling faster than the speed of regret. What I was born knowing I was bound to forget. In the blindness of being what I was born seeing I was just plain bound to forget, yes I was just plain bound to forget.

That night we drank wine from the crazy well. Shot a shotgun out the window of our automobile. We was young, we was wild
and we sure had our fun. Until the sheriff caught up with us and we tried to run. Now we return to Earth on borrowed wings
lifted from the shoulders of sweet dreaming angels. Now the world beyond the world we never will reach, 'cause you can't
get to heaven on no... borrowed wings. Now Lucinda here she once ran a fine beauty parlor, 'til her boyfriend got twenty
years for robbing them liquor stores. She took some pills in a motel room a mile from his prison cell. Then she sank like
a stone to the blue bottom of the swimming pool. Now she returns to Earth on borrowed wings lifted from the shoulders of
sweet dreaming angels. Now the world beyond the world she never will reach, 'cause you can't get to heaven on no... borrowed
wings. Between a rock called heaven and a hard place called home, we wander the shadows so restless and lonesome. For in
the fallow field where what's reaped is what's sewn there lies a road to ruin and it's paved with our tombstones. So if
you catch my reflection in a sheet of summer rain, pray tell do remain silent for fear you'll awaken them beautiful owners
of the wings that we bear for fear they'll reclaim them and send us back there. For we return to Earth on borrowed wings
lifted from the shoulders of sweet dreaming angels. Now the world beyond the world we never will reach, 'cause you can't