Outskirts of Town

Where I come from there’s a hard wind blowing
That keeps you from getting to far
And there’s something in the air that keeps you content
No matter how useless you are
And fate is the one that decides
If you’ll ever find your way out
But most that are born here end up dying here
Forgotten on the outskirts of town

There are old warehouses that have turned into ghost
In graveyards of vacant lots
And the young folks hang out in front of the drugstore
And tie their own heads into knots
And the cars out on the free way
They don’t ever seem to slow down
People roll up their windows and lock up their doors
And keep driving through the outskirts of town

O brothers misguided and used
Come Addicts and drunks sad and confused
Raise your glasses of sweet misery
I’ll drink to you and you’ll drink to me

I’ve been up north to the cold hollow mountains
And the south where the sun is just mean
I’ve traveled abroad to cities of gold
To see what I expected to see
Every town has a side where the poor
The losers and the freaks can be found

Where the air you breathe turns your head numb
And the water is laced with oil and rust
And everyone you know carries a gun
And the priests get high and sleep with the nuns
Where the men drink whisky from dawn until dusk
And the women have babies and then they go nuts
Where the old folks home is next to the dump
And they dig their own graves out in the junk
Where the mayor is crazy and so is his son
And there’s only one cop and he lives with the judge
And the hands on the clock pound like a drum
And business is slow even during a rush
Where loneliness spreads easily by touch
And everyone’s sick with deception and lust
Where the dreams of children eventually are crushed
And the burden of age soon weighs a ton
A place I know well the place I am from
Where my ashes will scatter when my days are done
And my soul will wonder in that holy slum
There on the outskirts of town
There on the outskirts of town
There on the outskirts of town

~ Written by Dan Baker