Mr. My Go - Kelly Joe Phelps

Hip-pocket flask at the ready

Step-light downed by the glass, yeah

Honey, what’s that nail doing in my head?

Just a minute ago I was shooting from a saddle

Yeah, I got a spur and a horse high shooting from a saddle

Oh I’m knee deep in salt and shoe grease

Whipping the leather with a fine toothed crack

All the words are candy, rot out my brain

With a nail twisting front hot here

Nail twisting hot front up to back

He didn’t know this triumph is nothing like waste

The smell of my youth in a brown paper sack

I’m gonna shake it night and throw it in the oven

Just throw it in the oven

You can warm it up soft like it was a day old

Or as stale and hard like a coroner’s wife

And I look in the rear view mirror

With the headlights up there behind

Melt into wax, ice and candy cigarettes

In vampire teeth and black-eyed snowmen

Vampire teeth and black-eyed snowmen

It’s a hundred degrees, my boots are soaked to the tongue

Covered in misty aberration, souls are holes, yeah, in a frame

And souls are holes, it’s in the frame of a

Picture of a madman hanging on a wall

Picture of a madman hanging on a red wall

Down the hall on the right, all night, paces reverently Mr. My Go

Are you ready?

Let’s hit that man

Let us hit, let’s do this, let’s hit that man

Well, let’s visit that neighbors that never come home

From a costume ball no one goes to alone

Man, let’s visit the neighbors that never come home

Gone to the costume ball no one goes to alone