Classic Cars

She was a real royal lady, true patron of the arts She said the best country singers die in the back of classic cars So if I ever got too hungry for a suitcase or guitar To think of them all alone in the dark So I laid some nights beside her in a bed made for a queen She said I kissed her different, that all the men her age were mean Gave me anything I wanted, Oh the generosity I took all that I could, it was free Now the sky is a torn up denim and the clouds are just splattered paint It's a room I'm renovating; it's a name I got to change If I get out of California I'm going back to my home state To tell them all that I made a mistake And I keep looking for that blindfold faith Lighting candles to a cynical saint Who wants the last laugh at the fly trapped in the windowsill tape You can go right out of your mind trying to escape From the panicked paradox of day to day If you can't understand something then it's best to be afraid The whole world it loves you if you are a chic chameleon Intersecting circles she could hang with anyone But when conducting business she would lie about where she's from Saying, "Life is how it is not how it was" I learned to listen felt like I was back at school She'd talk forever about the phases of the moon Saying, "Everything is a cycle, you've got to let it come to you And when it does, you will know what to do" Without even knowing I guess I took her advice Painted her front door, it seemed a suitable goodbye It's not that often but I think of her sometimes Just something quaint, a couple ships in the night And they keep moving at a glacial pace Turning circles in a memory maze I made a new cast of the death mask that is gonna cover my face I had to change the combination to the safe Hide it all behind a wall let people wait And never trust a heart that is so bent it can't break