Elaine On The Brain - Squirtgun

I’ve got Elaine on the brain

Shooting through my weather vain

But I can’t reach her

I’m so sick over Elaine

Cold and flu drops down the drain

And graying scrapyards (like metal)

Driving by the wheat silos and red barns

I can’t yell enough, it’s raking

Downtown in a blue phone booth

Elaine is running out tonight

And shaking (I'm quaking)

She’s all gold

And the ocean breaks cold

And I’m a wreck

You keep throwing down your wrenches