Purgatoryís Last Massage Parlor
I was rested up and looking good
With my George Jones T-shirt right off the rack
I was holding out for
Hoping it would come get me, maybe take me back
But looking on it now I know I was just a kid
And I have to face the Fact
I was building miniatures inside of a brain
Thatís shrunken to the point itís forgotten the pain
Of sinking in the buckets and collecting the rain in my heart
Are you feeling okay?
Oh just fine, yes oh so swell
Iíve been reinventing the elements of the plane
And feeling okay
So come on down. Knock me around again
Itís on your way. Itís just another day
Going away from me. Start the violins
And if youíre so happy and you feel it
Clap your hands†
But you say poets, lovers, and men like me never heal
We like riding in the middle and copping feels
And spending all of our lives spinning our wheels
So how does it feel? Iím feeling okay.
Thereís nothing much to do in purgatory today
Looks like it might rain, but who knows?
Iím standing here in line, trying to change my fate
But Iím always too late, and the parlor is always closed.