Clouds break for a moment when you're coming off 
desolation
And Frisco's your appointment
You're the way you were before
Trying to gaze East with no one to depend on
The blisters on your feet from coming down the mountain
Your friends won't let you down
But friends, they're not the refuge
You're tearing up the town with a hip flask of red wine
Scrawling visions buzzed in that five-and-dime notepad
Saving them just because angels seem so sad
A ticket from the coat-check girl
Her words and flesh, they're laughing
Taking down her number on that lipstick-stained napkin
Sainthood for anyone who knows you lose it to save it
A prayer for everyone who's ever been out on the pavement
Sound inside of me as I'm falling through the cracks
Hard luck and heart attack
Arms around me if I'm going through the ceiling
Service stations of the cross
Yeah, the doctors, they need healing
Things clear for a moment when you're coming off 
desolation
Between nothing and the atonement
It all bleeds behind your cadence