Black Out On White Night

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