Clouds break for a moment when you're coming off desolation,
And Frisco's your appointment; you're the way you were before,
Trying to gaze east, but with no one to depend on,
And the blisters on your feet, yeah, from coming down the mountain.

Your friends won't let you down...but friends, they're not the refuge,
You're tearing up the town with a hip flask of red wine,
Scrawling visions buzzed in that five and dime notepad,
Saving them just because angels seemed so sad.

A ticket from the coat check girl,
Her words and flesh, they're laughing,
Taking down her number on that lipstick-stained napkin,
Sainthood for anyone, yeah, who knows you lose it to save it,
A prayer for everyone who's ever been out on the pavement,
A sound inside of me as I'm falling through the cracks,
Hard luck and heart attack,
Of hard luck, yeah, and heart attack.

Arms around me if I'm going through the ceiling,
Service stations of the cross, yeah, the doctors, they need healing,
Things clear for a moment when you're coming off desolation,
Between nothing and the atonement, it all bleeds behind your cadence.

A ticket from the coat check girl,
Her words and flesh are laughing,
Taking down her number on that lipstick-stained napkin,
Sainthood for anyone, yeah, who knows you lose it to save it,
A prayer for everyone who's ever been out on the pavement,
A sound inside of me as I'm falling through the cracks,
Hard luck and heart attack,
Of hard luck, yeah, and heart attack.

Of hard luck,
Of hard luck,
Of hard luck, yeah, and heart attack.