The Singer (For Jason Molina)

The noisy crowd at the bar has always stood there
Since the very first word fell out of the air
And they're too smart to care
Nothing reaches the ear that's heard it all before
Makes everything a bore

And his song is for a girl
The empty hands she holds
And the clouds are crumbling
And her heart growing old
He sings, "I wanna love you, I wanna try
Here's my heart and my soul"

The little phones they stroke
Have been around since Cain
Learned to kill with a smile
Learned to type out his name

And his song was for a boy
Who just couldn't talk
Who only knows where he's going
When he's too drunk to walk
And things fall out of his pockets
And he never finds a way out

And their arms stayed crossed
And too-cruel silence-bound
Good for no one or nothing
There's no comfort for them
There's no comfort in them

His song is for a girl, for thunder and lightning
Like loving her made him so humble and frightened
But the crowd at the bar, they need so much more
Than anyone can ever give them
Than anyone can ever give them