Teksty: Uncle Tupelo. March 16-20 1992. Fatal Wound.

don't the lights look empty
when the streets are bare
almost as empty
as the look you give me
when I'm the only one

and it's a long one
so it brings you down
so say you have nowhere else to go
and nothing to do
so you hang around
you hang around

but you wait around until
you've received that fatal wound

columns of sunlight
and glorious cities
oceans of opportunity
and all your decisions seem ancient

but you wait around until
you've received that fatal wound