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Wasted Saints

by The Waxies

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1.
Empty Bed 03:01
As the flames leapt higher at the Derry armory We hurried back home, Dave John and me Our duty done, the mission fulfilled And our blood still cold from the men we had killed Comin' 'round the bend and down the old lane We arrived just to find our own homes in flames Like our dogs and our cows we were roped and led away Now I haven't seen my wife for 15 years come this May Whiskey won't fill, won't fill this empty bed Whiskey won't fill, won't fill this empty bed That night I cried as they dragged him away Held tight to our three children who'd also have to pay There wasn't food enough for hands who couldn't till So I found myself all alone tending the still Whiskey won't fill, won't fill this empty bed Whiskey won't fill, won't fill this empty bed The Montserrat sun burns like numbers in my chest Not white not black but Irish I'm kicked harder than the rest Worth half as much and treated twice as mean This is the closest thing to hell these old eyes have ever seen Whiskey won't fill, won't fill this empty bed Whiskey won't fill, won't fill this empty bed So I find me a drum and an old copper coil Some tools and clean water for the sugarcane to boil Then after work is done with the window shut tight I think of my wife and brew solace by moonlight Whiskey won't fill, won't fill this empty bed Whiskey won't fill, won't fill this empty bed Won't fill this empty bed Won't fill this empty bed
2.
3.
As the sun set west of Leningrad I followed it by train And passed the bottle with some new friends As the Russian daylight waned Then passed out to the steady Rumbling swaying on the tracks I'd spent the last of my rubles There was no turning back The next day I awoke When the sunlight pierced my head With little memory of the night I barely noticed creeping dread But it hit me in the chest When I saw how far we'd come I missed my stop Behind the Iron Curtain I was trapped I don't know the way back home I don't know the way back home I don't know the way back home I don't know the way back home I can't find my way 'round here I don't know the way back home I can't find my way 'round here I can't find my way 'round here So I wander Russian streets With nothing to my name Only minarets and obelisks To guide me by day When you're alone Don't know the way back home What's left inside What's left inside What's left inside After three long months of wandering I let my life slip from my hands And lay sprawled across death's doorstep When there came a caravan They were people rich in company And joy not bound by wealth So they pulled me out of darkness And nursed me back to health Three months became three years Became three proud scars on my face By the sawing of the fiddle I drink and dance my nights away My new family has everything That I could ever need Tovarisch they call me I am the Gypsy King I don't wanna go back home I don't wanna go back home I don't wanna go back home I don't wanna go back home Party with the gypsies all night long I don't wanna go back home Party with the gypsies all night long Party with the gypsies all night long So I wander Russian streets With nothing to my name Only minarets and obelisks To guide me by day When you're alone Don't the way back home What's left inside What's left inside What's left inside
4.
Well I woke up this morning With the Devil in my head Dirty shoes still on my feet And teeth that taste like gin Another night lost to a world Of war and senseless pain And the more I try to change it The more it changes me Well there's a lot of hungry people Who are barely getting by And I wish that I could help them With the problems in their lives I'd pick them up and feed them And send them home again But all too soon they're on the street And back on the gin I know that there's a better way But there's nothing I can give Here's another empty bottle For the souls I couldn't save I'm trying to be a better man Still looking for some grace As I wander through this lonely life Another wasted saint Well I met a man who told me He could pray my sins away And I'm sure he did the best he could But still I feel the same A bit too loud, a bit too proud A bit too drunk to see That all I need is for some light To come and shine on me I know that there's a better way But there's nothing I can give Here's another empty bottle For the souls I couldn't save I'm trying to be a better man Still looking for some grace As I wander through this lonely life Another wasted saint I know that there's a better way But there's nothing I can give Here's another empty bottle For the souls I couldn't save I'm trying to be a better man Still looking for some grace As I wander through this lonely life Another wasted saint
5.
6.
7.
8.
I can feel my fearless horse Drawing wind between my thighs But the rhythm of his hoofbeats I urge quicker in my mind I've got to catch a crooked lawman And I'm nippin' at his heels I'm gonna give him one right through the lung And watch him get the feel Two days ago to get his kicks He'd slithered to the bar And with his trigger finger itchy Met my friend to play some cards Cross words over too few poker chips Crossfire in the center of town My best friend raised an empty hand And the lawman, the lawman shot him down Out in the desert I'll bury him deep Some semblance of ceremony to get my hands clean I'll burn every moment the coward runs free And I'll feed that white-hot flame until I am redeemed I don't keep a fire Against the chill of desert night And I don't sit for coffee While I wait for morning light I don't stop to piss While that sheriff still breathes air I'm eagle-eyed for his dust cloud Hound-nosed for his despair Sometimes squinting in the sun Plays tricks on desperate minds Now a vision of two children Dances right before my eyes As I reach out to touch their faces I slide sideways in the saddle And realize lyin' in the dirt That my mind, my mind is half the battle Out in the desert I'll bury him deep Some semblance of ceremony to get my hands clean I'll burn every moment the coward runs free And I'll feed that white-hot flame until I am redeemed I've got him cornered in the canyons Frantic predator turned prey He stands ass-deep in rattlesnakes As I stand with pistol raised When I take away his trigger finger And aim to take his life I'm haunted once again By children standing by his side Then I blast a hole in his silver badge And the children melt away But I get no satisfaction As I watch their father fade They say a man with vengeance In his heart must dig two holes One is for his enemy And the other, the other is his own Out in the desert I buried him deep Some semblance of ceremony to get my hands clean I burned every moment the coward ran free And I burn now divided between hell and redeemed Out in the desert I buried him deep Some semblance of ceremony to get my hands clean I burned every moment the coward ran free And I burn now divided between hell and redeemed

credits

released March 15, 2012

Produced by Michael Prokopchuk and The Waxies. Recorded, edited, mixed, and mastered by Michael Prokopchuk and Tom Alti at TGA Recording Company, Inc. Cover art by Jordan Armstrong.

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