Vacant Lot
THE GROWLERS · City Club 2016 · Track 03 of 13
Written by Brooks Nielsen
He's looking like a sailor Who hasn't a ship Same salty song And curled up lips
In the land of the brave And running out of vain Waiting for a guy, silver-eyed Like a bullet train
Kinda wishes that he wouldn't show up Cause it's all become a stain Of the terra cotta mud
Way down in the valley of the mud It opens and closes Before you can get back up Lay down Face and belly in the mud It opens and closes Before you can get back up
He's scratching on a ticket With chewed up nails Following a rainbow That's grown too pale
Red lights paint the strip in neon blood Gambling on a ride so he raises his thumb Which raised his eyes But nothing seems to come Thinkin' bout the train Hauling terra cotta mud
Way down in the valley of the mud It opens and closes Before you can get back up Lay down Face and belly in the mud It opens and closes Before you can get back up
Gotta crawl out of the vacant lot But the helping hands Have all been burned Cried wolf, a thousand times Used up every line Lady Luck won't turn again
Way down in the valley of the mud It opens and closes Before you can get back up Lay down Face and belly in the mud It opens and closes Before you can get back up
Way down in the valley of the mud It opens and closes Before you can get back up Lay down Face and belly in the mud It opens and closes Before you can get back up