Son Volt (music)

Call out your castaway
You'll wake up to carry in the new day
Send 'em out from the castle on high
Talk is talk, solely in your mind
Claim-stake the final words
What goes around is knocking at your front door

-- Son Volt

The viewpoints slam,
Mates just look around to know you're wicked
Proclaimed from protected stances
Who, wallowing, wear what you've fallen into
You demonize what you don't understand
Darts surround your heavy, heavy hand

-- Son Volt

Better keep the bags packed
Keep your nose clean
Check the shelf life and date
Reticent gonna soon realize
Showgirls magazines define your minds eye
You're a rough draft you're old news
You're a grifter with a funny little hat

-- Son Volt

From different levels
Just pieces together
Never had a fall
That didn't burn wih laughter
Living it down
Just enough time to revel

-- Son Volt

All this talk about
The machine and what it means
On the street side walking
Faces wearing different dreams
Living it down
Just enough time to revel

-- Son Volt

When you're driving the view
The pace looks up when the burn goes down
Time and again when you're driving the view

-- Son Volt

Another non-issue
In around that commonplace
Free loose dirt
Free the minds of those who gainsay
Living it down
Just enough time to revel

-- Son Volt

There will be droughts and days inundated
unveilings free from saturation
departures raised with no masquerading.
There will be teachers that die by their own hand
pundits that push headlong for atonement
friends and followers devoted to living.
There will be watchers that plot from in confines
and those committed to society's circles
unwary cogs with no cadence or virtue.
There will be right, there will be wrong.

-- Son Volt

There will be machinations unforeseen
sleepwalking sense from a bad dream
no promenade walk in the parkway.
There will be catchwords filled with infection
circulars to prop up occasion
a golden mean to guide the footsteps.
There will be levels on high hills that appraise
there will be unchanging certainties
barometers that follow the stampede.
There will be right, there will be wrong

-- Son Volt

There will be signposts of indication
semaphore ghost signs and warnings
hailstone halos and country-blues wailings.
There will be strains that break out of straight time
but paid with grace, taking roads to the same place
with consequence to repay what's been given.
There will be layers of means to an end
drawn-out days before resolution
dregs will rain down from all directions.
There will be right, there will be wrong.

-- Son Volt

Drop of the hat and it's already started
Just like that and the deed is done
What I'd give for the hat to be medicine
The time is now to be on the run.

-- Son Volt

There is a slowness on the throttle
a civility at an end
Painted out of a corner
breaks to bind the strands
To decide within the barnstorm
or shadows feeding in the lurch
Just survive by a stone's throw
the decision wheels at work

-- Son Volt

No pangs provide delivery
breaking out of the throes
No reverie decided
just a wide swing tremolo
No mercy in pokerface
lend an ear before you go
No sentence yet decided
just a wide swing tremolo

-- Son Volt

Peace be found, if temporary
sirens stir the seeds of regret
Gathered clouds are unleashing
signs to walk, then place your bet
The squatters on high stations
the talkers that hold sway
Verbal backslide rushes out
like grapeshot fine spray

-- Son Volt

Broken down, lessons learned
redeemed on epitaphs
By blindfolded regulars
with countenance to switch back
Echo farewell to midnight
to the loneliness of the chase
To the minutes past his red-letter
to Elysian Fields defaced

-- Son Volt

No anchor-drop sanctuary
no remedy tends to show
No finding it uncovered
just a wide swing tremolo

-- Son Volt

Just wanna bring it about
Already seen from the inside out
Varied change, in the words of the weatherman
Still in the flow
Still in the flow and I'm low to the ground
All control is out, spinning
A new beginning, tracking and finding
Look what we have

-- Son Volt

Who do you answer to?
no one there, just pride.
Will that water mix with blood
to make the hollow man decide?

-- Son Volt