Sage Francis - Black Out On White Night lyrics

lights are out, phones are dead and I'm the only thing that's runnin in this city except for the clouds and man they're comin down if i knew my way around wouldn't feel so dizzy where's tele? nobody can tell me i don't speak a lick of that language and got a slippery memory if i spelled it all out on my arm, only if but i didn't so i think get a grip kid, deal with it baby's waiting for a ring wont settle for the substitute excuse that's forming i got a complicated case of escapism for her i try to rewire my nature too tired to wake her up odder that artificial calm she was on drug-induced future that slipped out of her palms seductive rain dancer, she thinks i'm waterproof like superman doesn't need a roof over his head when i come home to roost i need truth to hold in bed but i'm seeking salvation in a booth and the phones are dead and the lights are out and i'm the only thing livin in this ghost town except for the clouds, and man they're comin down if i knew my way around by now i'd be bound for home blackout on white night in rome blackout on white night in rome i know that i'm in love, but i know i'm out of touch and i know that i get dumb when i can sense something's up and then i bottom out European tailspins scrolling messages out on my pale skin in hopes that they get mailed in before the ink poisoning takes effect and it gets smudged because i budge before letting paint set i get judged by the ones who have shelter and rain checks while i trudge through the mud cuz its pouring to rain sweat regain consciousness and lose common sense the ominous dark skies that lie between me and providence are signs the obvious answer isn't standin on your face with stilettos on if you pop the question wrong every song's a post afterthought i wont grab the chalk to outline my body of work toe-tags get caught in my teeth cuz my foot is in my mouth and spurs are in my words so my tongue cant dismount even after our rapport had fully run its course couldn't figure out the most heroic time to jump from the horse and place this old hat for the last time on the coat rack but i donate all of my earnings from this race just to know that resisting urges to go back and get it later like the milk wouldn't sour itself in the refrigerator a wet boy in a dry, dry state on an old country road where tradition has a blind date i make it dance on its own grave tonight with a change of direction by the pale moon light and if it needs theme music i'll break out the bagpipes and play a tune a ghost wrote me in a past life that goes like... blackout on white night in rome blackout on white night in rome blackout on white night in rome blackout on white night in rome