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Burn The River Dry

Artist:Jim White  Album:Burn The River Dry  Writer:WHITE JIM  Composer:WHITE JIM 

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Door is locked...no one's home... frame is empty...picture's missing... throw that rock right through the window. Hey, I know him, he's a singer. Roam around...another town... Looks like Phoenix, Arizona... borrow the car from it's owner. That sleepy-head... He's dreaming the dreams of suburbia. Yeah suburbia. Me, I don't care... I just pay what it takes to feel alive. Cause somehow somewhere, Hell everyone I know is waiting... Just waiting to burn the river dry. And nothing works more than once, It keeps you restless, always moving Fretful searching for a brand new Spanking form of deliverance. Movies stars...heroin, Dreams of wild old fucking grandeur! Snap your fingers, now you're famous... Close your eyes as you sell out To all them suckers that you hate. Yeah, them suckers that you hate.

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