Mr. My Go

Hip-pocket flask at the ready
Step-light downed by the glass, yeah
Honey, what's that nail doing in my head?
Just a minute ago I was shooting from a saddle
Yeah, I got a spur and a horse high shooting from a saddle

Oh I? m knee deep in salt and shoe grease
Whipping the leather with a fine toothed crack
All the words are candy, rot out my brain
With a nail twisting front hot here
Nail twisting hot front up to back

He didn? t know this triumph is nothing like waste
The smell of my youth in a brown paper sack
I'm gonna shake it night and throw it in the oven
Just throw it in the oven
You can warm it up soft like it was a day old
Or as stale and hard like a coroner's wife

And I look in the rear view mirror
With the headlights up there behind
Melt into wax, ice and candy cigarettes
In vampire teeth and black-eyed snowmen
Vampire teeth and black-eyed snowmen

It's a hundred degrees, my boots are soaked to the tongue
Covered in misty aberration, souls are holes, yeah, in a frame
And souls are holes, it? s in the frame of a
Picture of a madman hanging on a wall
Picture of a madman hanging on a red wall

Down the hall on the right, all night, paces reverently Mr. My Go
Are you ready? Let's hit that man
Let us hit, let? s do this, let? s hit that man
Well, let's visit that neighbors that never come home
From a costume ball no one goes to alone
Man, let's visit the neighbors that never come home
Gone to the costume ball no one goes to alone