Black Out on White Night

"It was too good to last, he thought. Might as well have been a dream, he thought."

The lights are out, the phones are dead
And I'm the only thing that's running in this city
Except for the clouds and man, they're coming down
If I knew my way around, I wouldn't feel so dizzy
Where's the telly? Nobody can tell me
I don't speak a lick of that language and got a slippery memory
If I spelled it all out on my arm, only if
But I didn't, so I think, "Get a grip, kid, deal with it"
Baby's waiting for a ring and won't settle for the substitute excuse that's forming
I've got a complicated case of escapism
For her, I tried to rewire my nature, too tired to wake her up
Out of that artificial calm she was on
A drug-induced future that slipped out of her palms
Seductive rain dancer, she thinks I'm waterproof
Like Superman doesn't need a roof over his head
When I come home to roost I'll need truth to hold in bed
But I'm seeking salvation in a booth, and the phones are dead
And the lights are out
And I'm the only thing that's living in this ghost town
Except for the clouds and man, they're coming down
If I knew my way around by now, I'd be bound for home
Black out on white night in Rome
Black out on white night in Rome

[Jolie Holland singing]

I know that I'm in love, but I know I'm out of touch
And I know that I get dumb when I can sense something's up
And then I bottom out, European tailspin
Scrawling messages out on my pale skin in hopes they get mailed in
Before the ink poisoning takes effect
And it gets smudged 'cause I budge before letting paint set
I get judged by the ones who have shelter and rain checks
While I trudge through the mud 'cause this foreign terrain's wet
Regain consciousness, then lose common sense
The ominous, dark skies that lie between me and Providence are signs
The obvious answer isn't standing on your face with stilettos on
If you pop the question wrong
Every song's a post afterthought, I won't grab the chalk to outline my body of work
Toe tags get caught in my teeth 'cause my foot is in my mouth
And the spurs are in my words, so my tongue can't dismount
Even after our rapport had fully run its course
Couldn't figure out the most heroic time to jump from the horse
And place this old hat for the last time on the coat rack
But I'd donate all of my earnings from the race just to know that
Resisting urges to go back and get it later
Like the milk would unsour itself in the refrigerator
A wet boy in a dry, dry state
On an old country road where tradition has a blind date
I'll make it dance on its own grave tonight
With a change of direction by the pale moonlight
And if it needs theme music, I'll break out the bagpipes
And play a tune you ghostwrote me in a past life that goes like ...

[Jolie Holland singing]

Black out on white night in Rome
Black out on white night in Rome
Black out on white night in Rome
Black out on white night in Rome