Key Lime Pie Lyrics

Opening Theme
(Instrumental)


Jack Ruby
I remember his hat tilted forward
His glasses are folded in his vest
And he seems like the kind of man who beats his horses
Or the dancers who work at a bar
We saw on the screen his face for a moment
No time to plead or even ask why
Jack Ruby appears from out of nowhere
Then disappears in broad daylight
'Cause he's a friend of that cloven-hoofed gangster the devil
He's been seen with the sheriff and the police
Drinking whiskey and water after hours, saying
"Let's do business, boys. The drinks are on me."
So draw the box along quickly
Avert your eyes with shame
Let us stand and speak of the weather
And pretend nothing ever happened on that day
Grant us the luxury, 'cause all our heroes are bastards
Grant us the luxury, 'cause all our heroes are thieves
Of the innocence of the afternoons
Now we think it's a virtue to simply survive
But it feels like this calm it's decaying
It's collapsing under its own weight
And I think its your friend the hangman coming
Choking back a laugh, a drunkard swaggering to your door
Now do you feel that cold, icy presence ?
In the morning with coffee and with bread
Do you feel it in the movement of traffic
And days are terrible, simply forget


Sweethearts
'Cause he's always living back in Dixon
Stuck in 1949
And we're all sitting at the fountain, at the five and dime
'Cause he's living in some B-movie
The lines they are so clearly drawn
In black and white life is so easy
And we're all coming along on this one
'Cause he's on a secret mission
Headquarters just radioed in
He left his baby at the dancehall
While the band plays on some sweet song
And on a mission over China
The lady opens up her arms
The flowers bloom where you haved placed them
And the lady smiles, just like mom
Angels wings are icing over
McDonnell-Douglas olive drab
They bear the names of our sweethearts
And the captain smiles, as we crash
'Cause in the mind of Ronald Reagan
Wheels they turn and gears they grind
Buildings collapse in slow motion
And trains collide, everything is fine
Everything is fine
Everything is fine


When I Win the Lottery
Well I lost an eye in Mexico
Lost two teeth where I don't know
People see me comin' and they move to the other side of the road
I robbed a liquor store to make myself at home a few times
Borrowed myself a car when I needed it
I got me a shack at the bottom of the road
Fixin' cars and givin' tows
Spendin' all my money on the lottery
When I win the lottery gonna buy all girls on my block
A color TV and a bottle of French perfume
When I win the lottery gonna donate half my money to the city
So they have to name a street or a school or a park after me
When I win the lottery
Never run a flag up a pole
Like mr. red, white, and blue down the road
But I never called myself a hero for killing unknown communists
Now I can walk into any old bar
And find a fight without looking too hard
But I never killed someone I don't know just 'cause someone told me to
And when I win the lottery
Gonna buy the house next to mr. red, white and blue
And when I win the lottery
Gonna buy Post 306 American Legion, paint it red with five gold stars
When I win the lottery
When the end comes to this old world
The rights will cry and the rest will curl up
And God won't take the time to sort your ashes from mine
'Cause we zig and zag between good and bad
Stumble and fall on right and wrong
'Cause the tumbling dice and the luck of the draw just leads us on
And when I win the lottery, gonna buy all the girls on my block
Silver-plated six shooters and a quart of the finest highland scotch
'Cause when I win the lottery, the rights will shake their heads and say that
God is good but surely works in mysterious ways
When I win the lottery


(I was Born in a) Laundromat
Down here on the north side
[ ? ]
Down here on the river [ ? ]
I got sand in my shoes
It's hotter than asphalt
It's hotter than pistols
I'm as bent as a crowbar
We all want some release
Just like the queen of the trailer park
Sometimes she's the queen of the water, of the river
Down here on the tracks
We're the kings of the trash
I was born in a laundromat
I was born in a cul-de-sac
Some of us are brown
And some of us are white
Just give me some tension release
Just give me some tension release
Just like the queen of the trailer park
Sometimes she's the queen of the water, of the river
Down here on the tracks
We're the kings of the trash
She's the queen of the primo
She's the queen of the bondo
And I was born in a laundromat
I was born in a cul-de-sac
Just give me some tension release
Just give me some tension release
Just like the queen of the trailer park
Sometimes she's the queen of the water, of the river


Borderline
I will sing
I will be passed on over now
Take the wheel
Take me down
Let me sleep till we have disappeared
'Cause we're moving from east to west
Across the grey, it's meaningless
On the borderline nothing is real except for you and I
I have silver
And I have dollars
And papers, too
Bring me a mango from the south
Pour me a drink from the bottle
And one for you
'Cause we're empty as the desert
As we drift from west to east
On the borderline everything is empty, even you and I
'Cause we're moving from east to west
Across the grey, it's meaningless
On the borderline nothing is real except for you and I


The Light From a Cake
I'm alternating between heavy and light
Between meaning and nonsense
And having a drink
I have counted all the lines on the road
Between here and Los Angeles
That pass straight below
And I'm dreaming of a light, and it comes from your head
'Cause you move just like you're a train
Not like a car, no, no, it would never be the same
And the light from your eyes is like the light from a cake
I was thinking of a cake
To lift off this burden
To lighten this weight
One sweet little cake
Dervishes run the head of a pin
We are sleeping like angels
And living like devils again
And I am waiting for the heaviness in the air to break
And reveal some small, irrelevant truth
'Cause we move like we are suspended in ether
And the light from your eyes spills from the moon


June
Are you weary of the lengthening days?
Do you secretly wish for November's rain?
And the harvest moon top reign in the sky (now that it's)
There is nothing in this world more bitter than Spring
Now I wrote you this letter
Because the clothes were hung on the line
And the crows flew out of the field
And up into the sky
I'm lying here in the station
Stretching out on the tracks
For all the possible places that I might arrive
There is nothing in this world more bitter than love
In all those long days of
Bring me the long, brown grass now that it's dry
There is nothing in this world more bitter than Spring


All Her Favorite Fruit
I drive alone, home from work
And I always think of her
Well late at night I call her
But I never say a word
And I can see her squeeze the phone between her chin and shoulder
And I can almost smell her breath faint with a sweet scent of decay
She serves him mashed potatoes
And she serves him peppered steak, with corn
Pulls her dress up over her head
Lets it fall to the floor
And does she ever whisper in his ear all her favorite fruit
And all the most exotic places they are cultivating
And I'd like to take her there, rather than this train
And if I'd win a civil servant, I'd have a place in the colonies
We play croquet behind white-washed walls and drink our tea at four
Within interventions distance of the embassy
The midday air grows thicker with the heat
And drifts towards the line of trees
When negroes blink their eyes, they sink into siesta
And we are rotting like a fruit underneath a rusting roof
We dream our dreams and sing our songs of love
Fecundity
Of life and love
Of life and love
Of life and love


Interlude
(Imstrumental)


Flowers
Flowers growing
By the drunken river
Flowers growing
By the burning bridges
Flowers growing
Out of my bones
On the toppled towers flowers growing
On an island above flowers growing
Behind a mirror, behind a door
Flowers growing
Drifting fires of orange flowers
Roll down the stair, down from a star
Where they lie so long, beneath the seasons
Dead among the
On the toppled towers flowers growing
By the drunken river flowers growing
On an island above flowers growing
Out of my bones
Drifting carpets of orange flowers
Roll down the stairs, down from a star
Where they lie so long, beneath the seasons
Dead among the
Drifting fires of orange flowers
Lift from your eyes, out with a breath
Where they lie so long, beneath the seasons
Dead among the flowers growing


The Humid Press of Days
What did it mean to fly
A tremor in your soul
To resist the dull existence of gravity
Upward bound, trees fly
Two meadows and a fields
And the border is a simple line of hills
A dingy calm uncoiled
Between heavens and the Earth
Whispered nonsense into your radio
Now afternoons you seldom move
Grounded to a little bit of earth
And, after all, time barely crawls
Unoccupied, between each breath it sticks
What did it mean to fly
When you were bound to the Earth
A release from the humid press of days
Now afternoons it hardly moves
I wonder how you make it through each day
And, after all, time barely crawls
Unoccupied, between each breath it sticks
What did it mean to fly
A tremor in your soul
To resist the dull existence of gravity
What did it mean to you
An early chat with death
To pull your body for a moment from your soul


Pictures of Matchstick Men
When I look up to the sky
I see your eyes, a funny kind of yellow
Rush home to bed, I soak my head
I see your face underneath my pillow
I wake next morning, I'm still yawning
I see your face looking through my window
Pictures of matchstick men and you
Images of matchstick men and you
Alls I ever see is them and you
Windows echo your reflection
When I look in their direction, now
There're faces haunting me
Your face just won't leave me alone
Pictures of matchstick men and you
Images of matchstick men and you
Alls I ever see is them and you
You're in the sky
You're with the sky
You make men cry
You are, you're in the sky
You're with the sky
You make men cry
Pictures of matchstick men . . .


Come on Darkness
Come on slowly
Won't you rise and come
To the top of this hill
Where the cool breeze spills
Now that it's dusk
Someone drive them off the street
Let the pavements cool
Come on now
So come on love
And lay your body down, next to mine
'Cause what we're longing for has withered in the light
Come on darkness
Lay your body down on us
We've been calling you for so long now
We're weary of your name
Come on blackness
Let me breathe you in
'Cause with this clattering and din we are calling you
Brother, have you got a smoke
Or baby, have you got a dime
Seems like we're all a little down on our luck
And baby if you're workin' now out in Bakersfield
At some honky-tonk they call the Wagon Wheel
I feel swept and you feel rolled away
So come on darkness, I need you today
Come on blackness, let me breathe you in
'Cause with this clattering and din I am calling you
Come on darkness
Come on darkness