The Singer (For Jason Molina) - Mark Eitzel

The noisy crowd at the bar has always stood there

Since the very first word fell out of the air

And they’re too smart to care

Nothing reaches the ear that’s heard it all before

Makes everything a bore

And his song is for a girl

The empty hands she holds

And the clouds are crumbling

And her heart growing old

He sings, «I wanna love you, I wanna try

Here’s my heart and my soul»

The little phones they stroke

Have been around since Cain

Learned to kill with a smile

Learned to type out his name

And his song was for a boy

Who just couldn’t talk

Who only knows where he’s going

When he’s too drunk to walk

And things fall out of his pockets

And he never finds a way out

And their arms stayed crossed

And too-cruel silence-bound

Good for no one or nothing

There’s no comfort for them

There’s no comfort in them

His song is for a girl, for thunder and lightning

Like loving her made him so humble and frightened

But the crowd at the bar, they need so much more

Than anyone can ever give them

Than anyone can ever give them