Predictive Living - Damien Jurado

Moving back, chairs broken and stacked

I can’t seem to shake the fix I’m in

Better words that were sung or heard

Years before me

Still I do my best

Pushing pens to breast

Cut out signals left

Just when you thought you had me pegged

Thinking I’m the same

Then I go and change

Three become a name

Chords just rearranged

Rhythm shoes and windows to see through

Another jealous husband to be killed

Better words have been sung out of tune

I’m happy in this hotel once again

Forcing thoughts to pen

Rehearsals for the end

Just when you thought you had me pegged

Thinking I’m the same

Then I go and change

Three become a name

Chords just rearranged

Never kill the manufactured feel

And soul no longer matters in the end

Better words you’re never gonna hear

Mrs. Jones your son crossed to the bank

Still he must give thanks

The money’s all been made

Just when you though you had me pegged

Thinking I’m the same

Then I go and change

Three become a name

Chords just rearranged