Customer's Throat - Robert Pollard

Reverend sings, I feel like crying

Pimped and all alone

Every time I fake religion

Fingers around my throat

Stampede of the old steel workers

Pounding on my bones

Unaffected, jerky like

I’m walking out and home

Good son of the sunken anchor

Help me find my home

Oh son, don’t run

Endless summers, feel them over

I’ll be only nine

Out and take you home an alien

That would be just fine

Oh baby you wanna get…