a fistful of pills
Check out Corin's tour diaries from 2004.
She fell into my lap like a subscription card. I could tell without lookin' it was getting pretty hard to ignore the facts that were all too clear: I hadn't asked her to come, but she was already here.
Hang on tight. This could be the ride of your life.
Drinkin' all day in a bar without a clock. Then I started thinkin' - then I had to stop. I'm on the wrong side of the country and I'm talking to the mirror. He thinks it's time to call her - I just wish she could be nearer.
Now you keep me around for kicks, To do some favors or to fix. Every little thing that comes undone. But it's no fun being your loaded gun.
And your great success should afford some happiness. But all you get is me and an itchy trigger finger. Can't you see that you seem somewhat off your aim? And you'll need someone new to blame. Wipe your mouth and button up, you're done.
It's no fun being your loaded gun.
You've got a good thing going, you've got a good thing going. You've got a good thing going in me.
Oh Mary Mary, you're so full of grace, And very heavy is the price you pay. Forever pounding on your rosary, I'm looking up, you're looking down on me. And you're all set and so unkind. To lead a better life, you pushed our dreams aside.
You've got a good thing going, you've got a good thing going. You've got a good thing going in me. How does your garden grow?
'Cuz I know, I know so this is really no surprise. I know, I know that baby needs a brand new pair of eyes.
Does he know the way you cried when your dear old Gammy went away? Was he there to stroke your back as you leant to kiss her cold, gray cheek? Does he know how your tender little heart sank? Does he know why your father really left the bank? Does he know why you cry at night, Does he know why you cry at night?
I knew you'd be trading me in soon, But oh you're so predictable, the way you worked the room was just despicable.
Does he know the way you'll run at the slightest hint of stability? Does he know how you left your last true love to take up with me?
Take away the beating of my rock 'n' roll heart. Rough 'n' tough. Couldn't get enough of that stuff. Take away the beating of my rock 'n' roll heart but you can't forget who you are.
If it's truly over, take some time; comprehend the loss. Have our souls been saved yet? Is there interest in the work we've caused?
Smile when you say that, smile when you say that - Them's is fightin' words!
On this sad pair, let us now draw the curtain. We'll focus on a man who seems more certain. He tells his lover there will never be another one, tells her what is in his heart: they'll never be apart and she says
To my dear friend, I sing these sad stories. I tell her that my heart is filled with worry. I tell her all the things I never thought of thinking of. Tell her that I'm giving up - can't believe in love and she says...
Don't wanna be the next page, Don't wanna be the next page, Don't wanna be the next page in your slambook.
You've left a lot of mascara on other people's bellies. One little click to the left and their knees turn to jelly. Another scam in your wham- bam- thank- you, man world. You like to talk dirty, but only about other girls. And it's one kick for the dangerous and one kick for the meek. I'm almost paralytic and your heaving, heaving…
You could have kept that to yourself. You could have kept that to yourself.
One more washed-out Xerox of the thousand pouty blondes who've come before you. And one more gross encounter with the pleated promises of the man who owns you. Now turn up the TV, turn up your eyes to his grateful shake. Then you'll turn up at my door. Darling, here's to your health, here's to your health.
Self-denying hypocrites think they deserve salvation in a paper cup. But you and I turn up our nose at those who disapprove. Now you turn up in the paper with you're turned up button nose. Like you just fell off the turnip truck. Well here's to your health. One more shopping spree at Neiman Marcus and you almost feel fulfilled. And one more spin around the old block in your new Corniche, just for thrills. And now you turn down the cameo, turn down the interview request. Turns out success is not such fun, but here's to your wealth, here's to your wealth.
The view from the flowerbox reveals all my lofty aspirations dissolved upon your actual arrival. And dear departed dreams are just a flimsy bit of gauze covering something awful.
Light without heat keeps us buzzing around though it doesn't seem fair. Light without heat; Just two fireflies in winter, we were almost Inman Square.
Now sharpen your #2. This is a test of your emotional bullshit system, and the echoplex in my head is a loop of all we might have been.
Now the leaves start to scatter on the crooked street. Soon comes the fall. And the lone bell ringing in the city square seems to say it all.
I've been waiting for it so long, can't ignore it. Every day still takes me by surprise. I look at her and I still rub my eyes.
Fully grown and feeling empty. Did she know I was completely incomplete? Now every morning since she met me, I will rise and rub my eyes to find I'm still inside a dream.
There must be some sort of catch. Could it be I've met my match? Could it be that I've found everything I need? And if she ever leaves, I'll wipe my weeping eyes all my life.
You'll catch a shock if you're not well grounded. Take that advice for what it is worth. And run to me when the alarm is sounded. You can't fall down when you're kissing the dirt.
Everything you do is frightening - playing golf out in the lightning and you take away my breath. You're running with the scissors on the thin ice from the blizzard and you scare me half to death. You're the horror movie hero in the scariest scene. I shout this warning up at your screen...
All these cigarettes and cheap cassettes will hold me on for weeks. While I'm starin' through the windshield glass with nothin' good too see.
Oh but I won't sleep a wink. Till I reach that other side, with the load brought in on time. You just keep between the marks, and just hold it down the line.
All these lonely roads don't take me any place but far from you, And I'm sittin' in the drivers seat, but what else can I do?
There ain't nothin' I can do. Till your eyes are back in sight, and I'm far away from here I'll be pullin' outta gear, but still shiftin' through the years, Shiftin' through the years. Shiftin' through the years. Shiftin' through the years.