From the recording Fat Head, Sunday Paper
Lyrics
Among the Sioux and Potawatomi
Among the Presidents we’ve killed
It might be morbid curiosity
That keeps me searching for you still
Out on the Plains and in the Food Courts
Under my pillow
In the rain
Somewhere that someone saw you walking
Out in a field, out by the plane
Walking away
And feeling alone
Walking away
And feeling alone
I heard you shot a man in Reno
I heard you joined a burlesque show
Somebody saw you in a movie house
All by yourself, in the back row
Through Tennessee and in Virginia
Somewhere across the Rio Grande
The Duke receding from a doorway
You thinking that’s your kind of man
Walking away
And feeling alone
Walking away
And feeling alone
Apollo astronauts and murderers
The losing fighter TKO
That baseball player with the movie star
Host of that late night TV show
Moon of Manakoora after midnight
The night wind whispering your name
It's not like they put me in mind of you
I'm always searching for you anyway
Walking away
And feeling alone…
Waking away
And feeling alone