venerdì 31 gennaio 2014

Jason Isbell: Elephant

She said "Andy, you're better than your past"

Winked at me and drained her glass

Cross-legged on a barstool like nobody sits anymore

She said "Andy you're taking me home,"

but I knew she planned to sleep alone.

I'd carry her to bed, sweep up the hair from her floor

If I'd fucked her before she got sick I'd never hear the end of it

She don't have the spirit for that now

We just drink our drinks and laugh out loud,

and bitch about the weekend crowd,

and try to ignore the elephant somehow

She said "Andy, you crack me up"

Seagram's in a coffee cup

Sharecropper eyes, and the hair almost all gone

When she was drunk, she made cancer jokes

Made up her own doctors' notes

Surrounded by her family, I saw that she was dying alone

But I'd sing her classic country songs and she'd get high and sing along

She don't have a voice to sing with now

We burn these joints in effigy and cry about what we used to be,

And try to ignore the elephant somehow, somehow

I've buried her a thousand times, given up my place in line

but I don't give a damn about that now

There's one thing that's real clear to me: No one dies with dignity

We just try to ignore the elephant somehow, somehow