Albemarle Station – The Silver Jews
There must be a Spanish word for this feeling
The rush I get when I am stealing
From the Dust Congress
Whose dollars and dimes
Say, “In dust we trust”
Oh, yeah
The world is not ready for you
Bad roads, bad snow, bad bridges
Could turn a once bad man religious
If thy kingdom ever comes
You better run, run, run, run
Call me from Albemarle Station if you can
I hope you find your concentration beneath those ceiling fans
We used to dance in this split-level ranch
Moonlight flooding the room
Now you’re gone and the shades are all drawn
In my air-conditioned tomb
