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Succumb to Hell

And I've been sleeping way too long
alarm clock's buzzing up a storm
and these factory walls don't seem to help my cause
they're the reason that I wake up so distraught

But I've got a way out on the next train
and I'll roll into a different hiding place
until everyone around forgets my name
there is nothing we don't like that we can't change

I'm parenthetically involved
with a waitress at the bar
who reads my palm at breakfast every night
and she says that I can't live on borrowed time

The morning rolls into the day
I'm sleep-deprived and self-ashamed
and I feel there's something missing from this town
but I don't want to miss it going on

But I've got a way out on the next train
and I'll roll into a different hiding place
until everyone around forgets my name
there is nothing we don't like that we can't change


Washed Your Number Off My Hand
Sane washed your number off my hand
on the way home from the barrooms
I sting

And all those deep-creased notes
within my wallet folds
I scatter like confetti off the trestle

Thompson says before he drinks
"It's better you than me."
and swallows his aggressions with a thin smile

Succumb to hell in the haunting hours
I twist my sheets into barbed wire
love's a fire

I stayed up late, waiting for you
my phoneline silent
my doorbell mute

I dreamed deep
but thought myself awake
and once I start to thinking
it's an engine without cease

Succumb to hell in the haunting hours
I twist my sheets into barbed wire
love's a fire

I'll meet you in Copley Square
parade confetti in your hair
and I'm on the train to Boston

Hey, hey if I died today
I'd be a very happy man
Hey, Hey the world is strange today:
a sweet, unending promise

This one's for the Gold Dust Twins
Jim Ed Rice and Freddy Lynn
Dewey, Pudge and El Tiante

This one's for my Grandpa Slim
who never saw the Towne Nine win
may your soul be peaceful, resting

Hey, hey if I died today
I'd be a very happy man
Hey, Hey the world is strange today:
a sweet, unending promise

Hear 'em from the shores of Maine
down the street to Mattapan
strains of "Dirty Water" singing

My hopes are always sink or swim
been living hell since who knows when?
Fenway's faithfully rejoicing

Midnight churchbells, music to my ears
the pain of 86 years disappears

Hey, hey if I died today
I'd be a very happy man
Hey, Hey the world is strange today:
a sweet, unending promise

I shaved my World Series beard
it was getting kinda long this year

Long Arm*
Grab a corner, then sit down
bring your mortars, bring your rounds
catch your breath then go downtown to see

What's the ruckus? What's the cause?
Who's to blame, and who's at fault?
I just want my family to be free

Well you didn't come this far so you could turn your tail and run
and you didn't work this hard so they could take it from your son

Trust nobody on the take
all you own and all you make
big man sitting on the board of hate

Raining hard and the water's dry
terror's up in the old man's eye
fat man down on the river wide

Well you didn't come this far so you could turn your tail and run
and you didn't work this hard so they could take it from your son

Whether right, whether wrong
it don't matter on the wrong side of the law
Whether right, whether wrong
it don't matter on the wrong side of a gun

Driven like a moth into the light
just because it's cash don't make it right
if you're looking for the devil and a fight
you'd better save your sorry soul before you step into the flight

Well you didn't come this far so you could turn your tail and run
and you didn't work this hard so they could take it from your son

Whether right, whether wrong
it don't matter on the wrong side of the law
Whether right, whether wrong
it don't matter on the wrong side of a gun

Breathe while you've lungs
this might draw the curtain on your sun

I'm a killer with a gun
cocked and aimed and loaded
with my finger on the trigger
and my heart inside my throat
and the damage that you've done
will be finger-pointed elsewhere
'cause you never owned a single thing
that put you in this place

Recoiled
you've got a way with the world of pitching full-tank promise while you're sucking off of fumes
shameful with the way you've been using
instead of making progress
you're just leveling excuses

Breathe while you've lungs
this might draw the curtain on your sun

I'm a killer with a gun
cocked and aimed and loaded
with my finger on the trigger
and my heart inside my throat
and the damage that you've done
will be finger-pointed elsewhere
'cause you never owned a single thing
that put you in this place

Breathe, while you're young

All lyrics written by Martin England, except (*) written by Hank Decken - Copyright © 2005