Dylan Thomas - Better Oblivion Community Center, Phoebe Bridgers, Conor Oberst

It was quite early one morning

Hit me without warning

I went to hear the general speak

I was standing for the anthem

Banners all around him

Confetti made it hard to see

Put my footsteps on the pavement

Starved for entertainment

Four seasons of revolving doors

So sick of being honest

I’ll die like Dylan Thomas

A seizure on the barroom floor

I’m getting greedy with this private hell

I’ll go it alone, but that’s just as well

These cats are scared and feral

The flag pins on their lapels

The truth is anybody’s guess

These talking heads are saying

«The king is only playing

A game of four dimensional chess»

There’s flowers in the rubble

The weeds are gonna tumble

I’m lucid but I still can’t think

I’m strapped into a corset

Climbed into your corvette

I’m thirsty for another drink

If it’s advertised, we’ll try it

And buy some peace and quiet

And shut up at the silent retreat

They say you’ve gotta fake it

At least until you make it

That ghost is just a kid in a sheet

I’m getting used to these dizzy spells

I’m taking a shower at the Bates Motel

I’m getting greedy with this private hell

I’ll go it alone, but that’s just as well