Bottled up slipstreams
and old broken moonbeams
they won't see us through
to the dawn

and you call in the lights
in the royal blue night
and you ask me to tell you
what's wrong

well crown kings of [bad word] six ways from Sundays
now you've got
your Sunday best on

and you'll fix it
you'll find it
oh this time you'll mind it
but baby
i'm already gone

Well haul in the letter
a broken hearts better
than six strings
of stringin' along

and there's tears in your eyes
but i don't see surprise
just that coal miner
singin' his song

way down deep in the dark
where our hearts swim like sharks
and the pull of the moon's
finally gone

no the clocks can't unwind it
that miner can't find it
and baby
we're already gone

and i'm black and i'm blue
but i'm still made up of you
and there's just no place left
i belong

but it's go face the grey
you'll be better someday
and baby
i'm already gone