Teksty: Okkervil River. Disfigured Cowboy.

Disfigured cowboy
Mirror in pieces
Hold the receiver
Trace the police
station lines
to my number.
Number my reasons
for this paranoia
for these accusations.
My fear of the numbers
paired off like lovers who add together
so I can remember
the name of my nation.

Disfigured cowboy go
back to Alabama.
You’ve gone out of your head.
Get in your battered Mustang.
In the back seat will be your bag.

Disfigured cowboy
Pale denim phantom
If I could just piece together ransom
I would buy back the youth that
clung tight to your temples.
It was chased from his bedroom
It chased from his candles
By fear of the numbers
Paired off like lovers
and add it together
so I can remember
my face of my station.

Disfigured cowboy the
floor just won’t support you.
You fall through the room.
Get in your battered Mustang.
In the back seat will be your tomb.

Well I rode into Buffalo
and I found a motel room
and tried to escape you.
The phone line wouldn’t go through.
I looked in the mirror
and I saw your coward staring out.
I didn’t recognize your eyes, your mouth,
or anything other that concerned me now.
Oh I thought you were my friend
The coward in the mirror
The coward at the bed
Now don’t come any nearer
Oh I thought you were my hero
Now I beg you to go
back into the shadows.
Go back inside my bed.
Pull your features back together
Smash the mirror when you’re dead.