As we pulled into town there was a breakdown
as the moonlight hit the town.
But it was High Noon in somebody's head
before the first boot hit the ground.
Spent the day in Cincinnati on the cell phone,
trying to figure out the expense.
Stabbing fists into drawn-shade darkness,
battered by experience.
There's something to be said for hangin' in there
past the point of hangin' 'round too long.
Hung out to dry or put away wet,
all the same when it all goes wrong.
It's all my fault, it's all my fault
when you misconstrue the wonder and the shame.
All over town, my name's passed around
'til you can't tell the darkness from the flame.
You can't tell the darkness from the flame.
I left my car at the airport,
and flew to Kansas City in the rain.
I know enough to know I'm standing here soaked
and the weatherman's to blame.
I left the house empty after sunset,
with someone else to figure out the stains.
I take my responsibility
for the darkness and the pain.
It's all my fault,
everything's my fault.
Guess a butcher knows how to trim the fat.
When it all comes down
Armageddon's back in town.
You can't tell the rabbit from the hat.
You can't tell the rabbit from the hat.
The die has been cast
and the ??? are so pronounced
that there's nothing left to wonder or explain.
There'll be no healing
from the art of double-dealing.
Armageddon's back in town again.
Armageddon's back in town again.
Armageddon's back in town again.