She left New York City back in 1984
With the deaf altar boy.
She went buying junk out on the side of the shore.
He had a Plymouth cutlass built 'round World War II
with them suicide doors floating on suicide shoes.
Somewhere along the road, maybe somewhere out west
maybe it was Carson City, baby
The altar boy went digging in his chest
Drunk on despair, stoned on unholy sounds
but he couldn't hear his own cries
so he died right on the ground.

Just please, please
Please try to feel how I'm feeling
sometimes you just feel what you feel ain't right.
Please try to feel how I'm feeling
sometimes what you feel ain't right.

But she kept moving on, yeah
It was all she could do
Death wrapped 'round the steering wheel,
Dust up to the bottom of her shoes.
On the way out to Nevada she went barefoot mad
and she burnt the old Plymouth
behind some gypsy caravan.
Riding on the wind, yeah
like some guys are trained holy and drunk
Her skin and her bones, yeah
Singing not turn to dust.
She found her daddy's house on the wrong country's coast
and she passed through the walls like some Dixieland ghost.
She heard his voice say
"Girl, you'll never do nothing"
She thought to herself
"God damn, he was right about that one thing.
I lived to twenty-six and I finally skipped town
and I disappeared into my own head without a single sound."

Just please, please
Please don't try to feel how I'm feeling
sometimes you just can't feel how somebody's feeling
Don't try to feel how I'm feeling
sometimes what you feel ain't right.


Lyrics submitted by derekgbolton

Suicide Shoes song meanings
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