Wedding Gown

Duration

4:01

Genres

New Folk

Lyrics

Busted flat and broken down She took off her wedding gown And thumbed herself a ride The other way If it wasn’t for the comedy I’d miss the opportunities That knock upon my door Every time I’m away But I’m ok Busted flat and broken down A windblown mile outside of town Asphalt like a furnace On my slapped and sunburned face Her brothers and her cousins Came roadside by the dozens To spoon-feed me directions To the nearest interstate There’s post-punk-pop On every station So I focused my attention On a long vacation Play guitar that rocks the nation In my head Everyday we’re getting older But we gotta stop looking over our shoulders Punch the clock that sends you back to bed Back to bed Busted flat and broken down Rumors grew from town to town Someone said that she’d been there And mentioned me by name Accomplice or a random guy With Croce as their alibi The only thing I need to know is Things won’t be the same There’s post-punk-pop On every station So I focused my attention On a long vacation Play guitar that rocks the nation In my head Everyday we’re getting older But we gotta stop looking over our shoulders Punch the clock that sends you back to bed Maybe I won’t find it this time Answer my questions Leave all reasoning behind And all the reasons to give in Are answered on a single breath Of this life that I am living in Busted flat and broken down She took off her wedding gown And thumbed herself a ride The other way I’ll hold on to the comedy At least it fills a part of me That keeps me off those desert roads And chasing yesterdays There’s post-punk-pop On every station So I focused my attention On a long vacation Play guitar that rocks the nation In my head Everyday we’re getting older But we gotta stop looking over our shoulders Punch the clock that sends you back to bed There’s post-punk-pop On every station So I focused my attention On a long vacation Play guitar that rocks the nation In my head Everyday we’re getting older But we gotta stop looking over our shoulders Punch the clock that sends you back to bed I’m going back to bed Copyright 2011 Brian Paul Bateman