You can take my records
I don't need them any more
And there's a little bit of money
In the desk, inside a drawer
Take my little bit of fan mail
And burn it when I'm gone
With all the pictures of the pretty girls
With no clothes on

And if I ever had a savior,
I never knew his name
'Cause it was just last summer
Well nothin's been the same
Coming out of the sun for a while

Up the block from Orange
Near the dollar store downtown
There's a place of refuge among the unemployed clowns
I know it well 'cause I've been there some summers
With all the pretty girls
Who want me to kill their fathers

And if I ever heard a church bell,
I never knew the time
So set your clock back an hour
Or else you'll fall behind
Momma, can I come in from the rain?
I got a little bit of something to ease your pain

Just for all the days you make me wait
The anxiety for me that even liquor can't alleviate
And the pageants are deserted
And the carnival's closed down
Thus the loneliness of an unemployed clown

And if I ever heard a church bell
Always heard it late
You'd better drink the blood of Jesus
Or else they'll lock the gate
Momma, can I come in from the storm?
You'll be waitin' alone at your back door
Momma, don't give up your little boy


Lyrics submitted by RickyKidd

No. 5 song meanings
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