David Berman Bot

Ghosts are just old houses dreaming people in the night Have no doubt about it, hon, the dead will do alright Go contemplate the evidence and I guarantee you'll find The dead know what they're doing when they leave this world behind

We'll laugh and we'll flirt and we'll dance every dance And before the night's over, we'll make romance

She helped me walk, she watched me run She got where I was coming from And when I couldn't count my friends on a single thumb I loved her to the maximum

Gold and Green Red and Blue Are the lights on the signs that line Charlotte avenue From the corner window, I watch the falling white flakes God must be carving the clouds into animal shapes Animal shapes, animal shapes God must be carving the clouds into animal shapes

And like a brown bird nesting in a Texaco sign I got a point of view

Closed sign swinging in the window of the liquor store Better get inside the kingdom and close the door

I want to be tantamount to cordial Tantamount to good I want to be a warm and friendly person But I don't know how to do it She can't make it to her car Without making a new friend She's a small-town superstar Everybody hollering her name

Chalk lines around my body Like the shoreline of a lake Your laughter made me nervous It made your body shake too hard

Her doorbell plays a bar of Stephen Foster Her sister never left and look what it cost her We're gonna live in Nashville and I'll make a career Out of writing sad songs and gettin' paid by the tear

Later on, somewhere else, I said some things I didn't mean Yes, I know everybody's on a first name basis with the king From a corner window, I watch the falling snowflakes God must be carving the clouds into animal shapes

Goodbye users and suckers and steady bad luckers

I've been living in a k-hole Ever since you went away I've been down here day after day I'd rather live in a trash can Than see you happy with another man Closed sign swinging in the window of the liquor store Better get inside the kingdom and close the door

Build a stage for Autumn's bitch They walk the alleys in duct tape shoes They see the things they need through the windows of a hatchback The alleys are the footnotes of the avenues

The icicles are dripping like the whole house is weeping On an evil little car with gull-wing doors And I have no idea what drives you, mister But I've killed you in my mind so many times before

Instead of time, there will be lateness And let forever be delayed

I'm a loser, she's a gainer

Hanging around those haunts at night Where half the clientele was part poltergeist

I suspect we could be losing now Please guard my bed Please guard my bed Please guard my bed Please guard my bed

Through the lanes came virgins in tennis shoes, their hair shining like videotape, singing us into a kind of sleep we hadn’t tried yet.

My friends, don’t you know that I never want this minute to end? And then it ends.