Mutilation Falls Lyrics by Ryan Davis & the Roadhouse Band
Oh, the Spanish moss
It weeps in mourning
Of not only personal
But also planetary loss
Not just for the bloodshed
But, by God
For what the Bloody Marys cost
It weeps for the beauty queen
But most of all her dad
It weeps for you and me
And this whole horror show we’ve had
I can’t remember the last time
The good times got so bad
Mutilation Falls with all your Spanish Moss
Dream-weaving bromeliad
Seems the dream is dead
But the hopes are necrophiliac
They waste no flowers on our graves
But pray where our remains are really at
They pray for the beauty queen
But more so for her parents
They pray for you and me
And the planet we embarrassed
The pageantry is lost on me
But we drink to its merits
While I make a pile of voodoo dolls
And iron scrap in the backyard
For the meek to inherit
Better times
Used to let me find them
But they always got away
As fast as they could
Better times
Used to let me find them
But they always got away
As fast as they could
Better times
Used to let me find them
But they always got away
As fast as they could
Which past will we chose to chase tonight?
Jug of good ol’ days are actually good
Even her pervert friend
Earth’s first perfect ten
The commandments that we’ve spun around
And earned since then
The statues will not crumble
But, by God
The worst return to skin
It’s Waco in the bathtub
It’s Salem, Mass. with mascots
With French Quarter incense
And the Spanish moss
Plus some bus stops we burned
It’s you and me
Under the voodoo tree
Swaying with the pines
In a perfect dance
And late at night
I slip outside
Foraging for crumbs of circumstance
Foraging for crumbs of circumstance
Searching for a dream that’s on my side
For a chance
The dream is a mirror held by a phantom hand
The dream is a mirror held by a phantom hand
The dream is a mirror held by a phantom hand
Phantom hand plays a gymnopedie
On the baby grand through an open window
When the wind blows cold I have known
Those who heat their lives up in a test tube
But me, I must express myself
With what I’m left with in the guest room
Guess who’s back to talking sweet with
And whistling into the porcelain
Little Miss Mutilation
Won’t you guide me to the dance floor again?
Guide me back to Mutilation Falls
To Springs on all those hair metal afternoons
Moonwalking from glory down a path
That leads straight backward to you
It’s not much of a story
But, by God, I’ve got a dogeared chapter two
The dream is the tailpipe exhaust
The unexplainable servitude
The hope is extracted
And often unmatched by the flames
That we burst into
It seems the only thing that’s getting easier
Is the math that hurts to do
But you found me here
Lightning found me here
Lightning found me here
At Mutilation Falls
At Mutilation Springs
At Mutilation Falls
At Mutilation Springs
At Mutilation Falls
At Mutilation Springs
You found me here
You found me here
Lightning found me here
Lightning found me here
Lightning found me here
Lightning found me here
Lightning found me here
Lightning found me here
Lightning found me here
Lightning found me here
Me, here
Lightning found me here