Car full of dog hair, just you and me Up Fox River where my folks were born We should head out West, kid The call of the times She's sleepless and I'm so alone But neither knows Let's ride through the Badlands and smoke out the beasts In spaceships and cum-soaked motels I think she really loves me I felt her cry for the first time In rancid terrain, acid rain He's a madman in the Badlands A danger in the heartland, man A decent man on the lam I stand on the red edge She feeds the dog My depression is not her depression I'd like to be abducted To float in the air like Jesus The tables are turned inside me He's a madman in the Badlands A stranger in his own heart, man A decent man on the lam A decent man on the lam A descent into the mad Come on follow me

Don't bother me I won't ever be free of the aching I'll come around to embryonic sounds they tell me Dead soldiers lying in a room In a room you'll sleep your first sleep A power move to be constantly rude every morning I gave my word to try love so absurd in the springtime The distance comes when she comes home And fuck if I know why She's my best friend I am stuck in the aching again A vapid fight in blistered light Oh cloudless afternoon You'll never send Me out of the aching again Oh tender hall, the new moon is a sprawl in her echoes With bayonet, whittling bassinets on the table Dead soldiers lying in the trash In the back where you take your first step So bother me, I won't ever be free of the aching I hope you find I'm always good and kind when you need me Will distance come when she comes home? Man, fuck if I know how My blood will mend Me out of the aching again Oh, help me out of the aching again Oh, help me out of the aching again Oh, help me out of the aching again

He's Jonny Murphy and he's wearing Nazi flags He's licking rifles and he's sniffing in the trash Buying motor homes in Florida for to fund the fascist front His mother Sherry she is kissing photographs And sipping bleach between the tricks she kompromats Printing prints of phony princes all to purge the diplomats So I wring my hands out His father Thomas makes a living giving head To stop his family from blowing him instead But they're stabbing him to pieces in his Sarasota bed He's Jonny Murphy now he's knitting Nazi flags From bloody blankets and his father's favorite cat Burning motor homes in Florida for to find the fascist front So I wring my hands out