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The Mountain Goats
The Mountain Goats


Background information
Origin Claremont, California, United States
Genre(s) Folk-Rock
Lo-Fi
Indie Rock
Years active 1991—present
Label(s) 4AD
Merge Records
Associated acts The Extra Lens
John Vanderslice
Kaki King
Website Website
Members
Jon Wurster
John Darnielle
Peter Hughes



Music World  →  Lyrics  →  T  →  The Mountain Goats  →  Albums  →  Tallahassee

The Mountain Goats Album


Tallahassee (2002)
2002
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Window facing an ill-kept front yard
Plums on the tree heavy with nectar
Prayers to summon the destroying angel
Moon stuttering in the sky like film stuck in a projector
And you
You

Twin prop airplanes passing loudly overhead
Road to the airport two lanes clear
Half the whole town gone for the summer
Terrible silence coming down here
And you
You

There is no deadline
There is no schedule
There is no plan we can fall back on
The road this far can't be retraced
There is no punch line anybody can tack on
There are loose ends by the score
What did I come down here for?
You
You


. . .



Bad luck comes in from Tampa
Bad luck comes in from Tampa
On the back of a truck
Doing ninety up the interstate
We have bad dreams the night he rolls in
We have bad dreams the night he rolls in
And we try to keep our sprits high
But they flag and they wane
When the truck pulls up out front
In the light spring rain
And they sag like withering flowers
Let the good times roll on
Through these first few desperate hours

Yeah the driver drops his cargo at the curb
The driver drops his cargo at the curb
And the sun peeks in
Like a killer through the curtain
And when cloven hoof prints turn up in the garden
Yeah when cloven hoof prints turn up in the garden
We keep up the good fight
We keep our spirits light
But they draw like flies
And there's a stomach-churning shift
In the way the land lies
And they lean like towers
On a hillside struggling to stand
Through these first few desperate hours
Yeah


. . .



I've got you
You've got whatever's left of me to get
Our conversations are like minefields
No one's found a safe way through one yet
I spend a lot of money
I buy you white gold
We raise up a little roof
Against the cold
On Southwood Plantation Road
Where at night the stars blow like milk across the sky
Where the high wires drop
Where the fat crows fly

All night long you giggle and scream
Your brown eyes deeper than a dream
I am not going to lose you
We are going to stay married
In this house like a Louisiana graveyard
Where nothing stays buried
On Southwood Plantation Road
Where the dead will walk again
Put on their Sunday best
And go with unsuspecting Christian men
La la la la la


. . .



Dug up a fifth of Hood River gin
That stuff tastes like medicine
But I'll take it
It'll do

On the couch in the living room all day long
Music on the television playing our song
And I'm in the mood
The mood for you

Turn the volume up real high
All of that money look at it fly
And you smoking like a chimney
Shadows crawled across the living room's length
I held onto you with a desperate strength
With everything with everything in me
And I handed you a drink of the lovely little thing
On which our survival depends
People say friends don't destroy one another
What do they know about friends?

Thunderclouds forming cream white moon
Everything's going to be okay soon
Maybe tomorrow
Maybe the next day

Carried you up the stairs that night
All of this could be yours if the price is right
I heard cars headed down to oblivion
Up on the expressway
Your drunken kisses as light as the air
Maybe everything that falls down eventually rises
Our house sinking into disrepair
Ah but look at this showroom filled with fabulous prizes



The House That Dripped Blood


. . .



Look beyond the broken bottles
Past the rotting wooden stairs
Root out the wine-dark honeyed center
Not everyone can live like millionaires

Look through the air-thin walls
Tear up the floorboards strip the paint
Go over every inch of space
With the patience of a saint
Grab your hat get your coat
The cellar door is an open throat

Look past the kitchen cabinets
Go through the chest of drawers
Scrutinize the casements
Rip the varnish off the doors
Dig up the laughing photographs
They're here somewhere or other
Take what you can carry
But let me tell you brother
Still waters go stagnant
Bodies bloat
And the cellar door is an open throat


. . .



This place with its old plantations
These roads leading out to the sea
This day full of promise and potential
More clay pigeons for you and me
All of them all of them
All of them all of them
All of them all of them all of them all of them
All lined up

Huge crows loitering by the curb
Our shared paths unraveling behind us like ribbons
And I dreamed of vultures
In the trees around our house
And cicadas and locusts
And the shrieking of innumerable gibbons
All of them all of them
All of them all of them
All of them all of them all of them all of them
All lined up

How long will we ride this way about?
How long 'til someone caves under the pressure?
My dreams are haunted by armies armies of ghosts
Faces too blurry to make out
Numbers far too high to measure
Your face like a vision straight out of Holly Hobby
Late light drizzling through your hair
Your eyes twin volcanoes
Bad ideas dancing around in there
All all of them all of them
All of them all of them
All of them all of them all of them all of them
All lined up


. . .



I hope that our few remaining friends
Give up on trying to save us
I hope we come up with a failsafe plot
To piss off the dumb few that forgave us
I hope the fences we mended
Fall down beneath their own weight
And I hope we hang on past the last exit
I hope it's already too late
And I hope the junkyard a few blocks from here
Someday burns down
And I hope the rising black smoke carries me far away
And I never come back to this town
Again in my life
I hope I lie
And tell everyone you were a good wife
And I hope you die
I hope we both die

I hope I cut myself shaving tomorrow
I hope it bleeds all day long
Our friends say it's darkest before the sun rises
We're pretty sure they're all wrong
I hope it stays dark forever
I hope the worst isn't over
And I hope you blink before I do
Yeah I hope I never get sober
And I hope when you think of me years down the line
You can't find one good thing to say
And I'd hope that if I found the strength to walk out
You'd stay the hell out of my way
I am drowning
There is no sign of land
You are coming down with me
Hand in unlovable hand
And I hope you die
I hope we both die


. . .



I was driving up from Tampa
When the radiator burst
I was three sheets to the wind
A civilian saw me first
And then there was the cop
And then the children standing on the corner
Your love is like a cyclone in a swamp
And the weather's getting warmer

I was getting out of jail
Heading to the Greyhound
You said you'd hop on one yourself
And meet me on the way down
I was shaking way too hard to think
Dead on my feet about to drop
Went and got the case of vodka from a car
And walked the two miles to the bus stop

Got on the bus half drunk again
The driver glared at me
Met up with you in Inglis
Thumbed a ride to Cedar Key
If we never make it back to California
I want you to know I love you
But my love is like a dark cloud full of rain
That's always right there up above you
Hey!


. . .



I hear them squeal
I see them preen
Fans all spread out
Neat and clean

Grab hold of the morning
Head out to the porch
Feel the wind stopping
Feel the sun scorch
I fear for my safety
You can see it in my eyes
In an hour or two
We will rise

Then a sharp breeze kicks up
I hug myself hard
How come there's peacocks in the front yard?

Sun's all prickly
On my neck
When the helicopter passes
We both hit the deck
Hands grasping and groping
Seizing opportunity
Right where it lies
The sky will fall
We will rise


. . .



My love is like a powder keg
My love is like a powder keg in the corner of an empty warehouse
Somewhere just outside of town
About to burn down

My love is like a Cuban plane
My love is like a Cuban plane flying from Havana
Up the Florida coast to the 'Glades
Soviet made

Our love is like the border between Greece and Albania
Our love is like the border between Greece and Albania
Trucks loaded down with weapons
Crossing over every night
Moon yellow and bright
There is a shortage in the blood supply
But there is no shortage of blood
The way I feel about you baby can't explain it
You got the best of my love


. . .



Tile floor of the bathroom
Scrubbed clean and bright
Checkerboard white and grey
Towels from the Ritz-Carlton hotel in Kingston Jamaica
I can still see the rust colored stains today
The stage is set
Someone's going to do something someone else will regret
I speak in smoke signals and you answer in code
The fuse will have to run out sometime
Something here will eventually have to explode
Have to explode

You and me lying on the tile floor
Trying to keep cool
Restless all night
Sweating out the poison
As the temperature climbs
Staring up up at the hundred-watt light that burns above
Name one thing about us two anyone could love
We roll out the red carpet
When rotten luck comes down the road
Five four three two one
Watch for the flash
Something here will eventually have to explode
Have to explode


. . .



From the housetops to the gutters
From the ocean to the shore
The warning signs have all been bright and garish
Far too great in number to ignore

From the cities to the swamplands
From the highways to the hills
Our love has never had a leg to stand on
From the aspirins to the cross-tops to the Elevils
But I will walk down to the end with you
If you will come all the way down with me

From the entrance to the exit
Is longer than it looks from where we stand
I want to say I'm sorry for stuff I haven't done yet
Things will shortly get completely out of hand
I can feel it in the rotten air tonight
In the tips of my fingers
In the skin on my face
In the weak last gasp of the evening's dying light
In the way those eyes I've always loved illuminate this place
Like a trashcan fire in a prison cell
Like the searchlights in the parking lots of hell
I will walk down to the end with you
If you will come all the way down with me


. . .



Well
Guy in a skeleton costume
Comes up to the guy in the Superman suit
Runs through him with a broadsword
I flipped the television off
Bring all the bright lights up
Turn the radio up loud
I don't know why I'm so persuaded
That if I think things through
Long enough and hard enough
I'll somehow get to you
But then you came in and we locked eyes
You kicked the ashtray over as we came toward each other
Stubbed my cigarette out against the west wall
Quickly lit another
Look at that
Would you look at that?
We're throwing off sparks
What will I do when I don't have you
To hold onto in the dark?

Yes
Everybody's going to need a witness
Everybody's going to need a little backup
In case the scene gets nasty
You throw the attic window open
And I throw myself all around you
And night comes to Tallahassee
I don't know why it's gotten harder to keep myself away
Thought I'd finally beat the feeling back
It all came back today
And then we fell down
And we locked arms
We knocked the dresser over as we rolled across the floor
I don't mean it when I tell you
That I don't love you any more
Look at that
Would you look at that?
The way the ceiling starts to swerve
What will I do when I don't have you
When I finally get what I deserve?


. . .



Ah the lengthening hours in the refinery
Belching fire into the sky
We do our best vampire routines
As we suck the dying hours dry
The night is lovely as a rose
If I see sunlight hit you
I am sure that we'll both decompose

Ah the fitful sleep and the fire engines
That I dream of when I dream
Some day we'll both wake up for good
I will try hard not to scream
The evening wind will shake the blinds
You're stirring from your slumber
We've got something hateful on our minds

Oh sing sing sing
For the dying of the day
Sing for the flames that will rip through here
And the smoke that will carry us away
Yeah sing for the damage we've done
And the worse things that we'll do
Open your mouth up and sing for me now
And I will sing for you


. . .


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