The Jukeboxs been smokin'

The Jukebox’s been smokin’
‘cause it ain’t got no more soul to breathe.
The glass smeared with sparrows song,
its buttons too tired to turn a tune;
anything other than the blues.
Which is fine by me
just as long as my back ain’t turned
cause I do mind when people
spit on my shoes.
You get where I’m comin’ from?
So when I die
and he die
lay us in calico cat coats
and tell them we died standing still
with our hands ‘round each others throats
and I should have seen it comin’.

I got all boozed up on 2nd hand Joe
sayin’ “A pinball hell is tied to my chain.”
sayin’ “I’ll never fall for a Kentucky man again.”
I did fall in love once
with a 20 gage boy
who was all boozed up on 2nd hand Joe.
He shot a hole through that porches back door
the size of a dime
and grazed the cane that was tappin’
to the beat of my boot still snappin’
Tom, Tom, bangin’ on that Jukebox
with a glass of Old Ennis Owen
singin’ “I’ll never fall for an alley trash cat again.”