Walking Without Frankie

Throttling, hurtling - just going, going And hurting knowing that it's gone, and it's going And not knowing where - in the ground or in the air Up the golden stair (or whatever) - it's going I stopped by the Lake of the Strangled Crane It was the color of copper I saw the crane operator I heard the operator's father say, "It looks like rain." And I had the operation because he said he was a doctor And I was in pain "Freedom," or whatever, whatever you call it It's a stairway, or a slow ride It's "Rhiannon" or "Landslide" I hear the bartender died of a broken heart and a shattered pelvis He was buried in Kansas It was part of a promotion They were trying to undermine the confidence of the consumer I saw a beautiful drummer in the web of a spider And I wanted to save him I saw a little boy in serious danger of growing older And he was trapped sitting shotgun in a Cutlass Cruiser When I'm on the street, something's singing in my ear And I hear a little voice all thumpthumpthumpthump-thumping in my chest And I feel the hummingbird-fast heart in there whirring like mad Got a spiriting feeling swimming around my head And I haven't even had any cocaine yet And I don't even want any though, I bet It's like some kind of sentence that passes between us that someone else said I last saw you, Frankie, walking through that New Hampshire dew And when you shot five thousand feet up into the grey sky, what could I do? Now I bet you're in space Write me, or whatever I feel so far away Like I'm an old typewriter, out on the showroom floor Like I'm the Last Starfighter and they forgot the war And they burned my trailer And they're on my tail, And I'm out on tour And I want Frankie I want Frankie I want Frankie I want Frankie I want Frankie I want Frankie I want Frankie Oh man. All right