Baseball

Traffic inches slowly by The dreamless sleep of a dead man Dusty diesel smoke Small talk for a while, that's the story Back inside the television They say base is stolen The crowd is going wild And I can't watch this anymore With bloodshot eyes, she cries some more And leaves the room half-empty So I practice throwing baseballs at the yellow plaster wall I've got a good arm And that's the story Skipping through the plaster dust That's covering the floor Base is loaded in the night And someone's gotta score The ocean is just blocks away I bet that I could catch a wave I'll kick the screen out The first pitch was a wild one and misses All the glass Two blocks stopped in traffic But man she’s making tracks And traffic inches slowly by Look up fast and watch the sky Turn yellow And everything and everyone Is fit to fight Its nine-to-one I'll shoot this screen out Cuz I got I've got good aim And these sights are all filed down so low I've tried my best to let it go But I'm sticking with it And as she walks into the room The lights come on and pretty soon It's over For a while And outside in the distance Out among the broken glass There’s a bloody baseball holding steady in the grass And that’s the story And that’s the story And I’m- And I’m sticking with it