Besedila:
Jacks Mannequin

I've got my things, I'm good to go You met me at the terminal Just one more plane ride and it's done We stood like statues at the gate Vacation's come

She walks to the mailbox each morning at nine Every day she begins, she's always one day behind At least when it comes to the mail She sits on the balcony

I'm living in a waiting room on the tenth floor Of a New York City skyscraper Got the paperwork filled out my friend Can you tell me how this story ends

I saw her wait, waitng at the bus stop Watching as her tears dropped Like pennies down a well Oh well We can drink until the sun comes up I never let

I wanna hear some music Now that they're driving us all underground Not the radio music or their satellite singing this In this town, in this town I

Keep your eyes on the road on the Glass Passenger He sings for a traveling band. Well I'll be tommorow Is God only knows Seems there's a science in hand

From an empty room on the first floor As the cars pass by the liquor store I deconstruct my thoughts at this piano And it's all that I can do to stay

Oh my God, this hurts like hell I had that dream again Where I was lost for good in outer space Tell me, doctor, how to shake? A waking nightmare that

These hammers and strings been following me around From a box filled garage to the dark punk rock clubs Of 1000 American towns And my friend calls me