Loping pallbearers, open caskets

this is life stripped down to the chassis

we deal with all that was, all that is

Bourbon Street heat, stormy night on the bayou

"Typhoon weather", the man remarks as the lighter sparks

sipping Maker's Mark as the train departs

my window's a slideshow

I see trailer parks, babies playing in the dark

eyes like glowflies, swaying through the marsh

the old man takes two, coughs and looks off in the distance

like he lost something out there and looking'll make a difference

people catching each other's stares and flinching

a boxcar of childless fathers, fatherless children

skittering through the wilderness

the train creeps the tracks like a heartbeat, making it hard to sleep

the engine shrieks Neanderthal animals through the blue black

I sit watching the admiral come unglued

not sure when he was born, been in every war

clashed with the Spanish Armada, did Pearl Harbor, Desert Storm

sailed galleons, commandeered battalions, fought valiant

and now he just sits there stammering

everyone laughs inside but he's just dealing

ain't no such thing as crazy, he's just dealing

this man here ain't crazy, he's just dealing

went to sleep on his bad side and lost all feeling

ain't no such thing as crazy, we just dealing

a crowd of people face to face, just sitting

on their way to their rented apartments for more sitting

waiting rooms where they sit and wait to stop breathing

and neighbors are strangers, you just hear 'em through the ceiling

the occasional muffled sound, the television

and it gets so lonely sometimes you wanna scream

then the old lady sitting next to me starts speaking

never loved a soul, didn't know the feeling

was a dead woman's sister, a family man's mistress

never loved her mother, her father, her own children

and all you hear is...

talks to herself cuz nobody else will listen

spotted her in the street and they put her on medicine