Champions of Nothing - Matthew Good

When Hollywood runs out of Indians

When the bar stars melt and their golden hair turns into glass

When Hollywood runs out of Indians

When the bubble bursts and the first are come for by the last

There’s something in the way you move

Makes me catch a cold

There’s something in your «too cool for school»

When you slide up and down my pole

There’s something in the way you look

That only casts a shadow

When Hollywood runs out of Indians

Only the Indians will know

A kick in the head, pass it around

Begging for a bed, pass it around

Pass it around

And I’d say what you’d say

It makes me feel nothing

There’s a car waiting to take me to something

At the end of my rope there’s

A new world, it’s snowing

The globe it starts shaking

Is it me not worth knowing?

The white coats are melting

The snow down our mountains

To process the rivers for hallways, and fountains

And I’d say what you’d say

But it makes me feel nothing

Til there’s a man waiting to take me to something

That I’m for

Hell

It looks red in all it’s pictures

My sisters sing laments

While their skin blisters

(take your time, take your time, take your time)

Halleluiahs

Offered down on the floor

Nobody goes above decks

No, not no more

They say the sun is still shining

That you can feel it in your core

But I ain’t seen nobody move

That weren’t going for the door

And I’d say what you’d say

Champions of nothing

But there’s a car waiting to take me to something

At the end of my rope

There’s a new world, it’s glowing

The globe it starts shaking

Was it you not worth knowing?

The white coats are melting

The snow down our mountains

To process the rivers for hallways, and fountains

And I’d say what you’d say

But it makes me feel nothing

Til there’s a man waiting to take me something

That I’m for…