She was a real royal lady, true patron of the arts

She said the best country singers die in the back of classic cars

So if I ever got too hungry for a suitcase or guitar

To think of them all alone in the dark

So I laid some nights beside her in a bed made for a queen

She said I kissed her different, that all the men her age were mean

Gave me anything I wanted, Oh the generosity

I took all that I could, it was free

Now the sky is a torn up denim and the clouds are just splattered paint

It’s a room I’m renovating; it’s a name I got to change

If I get out of California I’m going back to my home state

To tell them all that I made a mistake



And I keep looking for that blindfold faith

Lighting candles to a cynical saint

Who wants the last laugh at the fly trapped in the windowsill tape

You can go right out of your mind trying to escape

From the panicked paradox of day to day

If you can’t understand something then it’s best to be afraid



The whole world it loves you if you are a chic chameleon

Intersecting circles she could hang with anyone

But when conducting business she would lie about where she’s from

Saying, "Life is how it is not how it was"

I learned to listen felt like I was back at school 

She’d talk forever about the phases of the moon

Saying, "Everything is a cycle, you’ve got to let it come to you

And when it does, you will know what to do"

Without even knowing I guess I took her advice

Painted her front door it seemed a suitable goodbye

It’s not that often but I think of her sometimes

Just something quaint, a couple ships in the night



And they keep moving at a glacial pace

Turning circles in a memory maze

I made a new cast of the death mask that is gonna cover my face

I had to change the combination to the safe

Hide it all behind a wall let people wait

And never trust a heart that is so bent it can’t break