We go down round
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The far side of the tracks
|
Lolitas playing dominoes and poker
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Behind their daddy's shacks
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Vacant-eyes, glue-face boys
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On a pearl splashing glass
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If they give us any flack
|
If they come up on our ass
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We'll just give 'em the go-by
|
The Cadillac pass
|
|
Take me now
|
From the blue and pale room I'd follow
|
Through the faces and the traces of
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Treasure I keep hearing inside me
|
Madmen throw their voices
|
From pretty boys
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And from the best ones
|
You pick up connections
|
As they hand you your directions
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To the Western Slope
|
|
I lied to my angel so I could take you downtown
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I'd lie to anybody there was nobody else around
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And I know what people say about me
|
But I lied to my angel and now he can't find me
|
|
I'm sorry
|
I saw him
|
I saw him
|
Laughing
|
I could hear them
|
Laughing
|
Alive
|
I could hear them
|
|
E. A. Poe
|
And Johnny Johnson
|
If you dial in
|
They're calling from the Western Slope
|
Who's the thin thread of light
|
That keeps you strangled in the scenery
|
That follows my voice - can you se me?
|
Then follow my voice
|
|
Who raised this banner?
|
That no one hears - The Jack
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Beneath the axis
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Digging under the current
|
Someone's trying to get back
|
But who's qualified to retrieve
|
The soul's enduring song?
|
From the grottos of her eyes
|
And the clashing stars
|
|
E. A. Poe
|
And Johnny Johnson
|
If you dial in
|
They're calling from the Western Slope
|
Who's the thin thread of light
|
That keeps you strangled in the scenery
|
That follows my voice - can you se me?
|
Then follow my voice - see me?
|
|
-----------------
|
Traces Of The Western Slopes
|
| Rickie Lee Jones |
