The Valley - Okkervil River

Watch the sun switching in the sky, off and on

Where our friend stands bleeding on the late summer lawn

A slicked back bloody black gunshot to the head

He has fallen in the valley of the rock and roll dead

I hear a breeze, it wheezes through the tips of the pines

Where there’s laughter and there’s screaming to the rafters in the night

The moon rolls dreaming through the late spring sky

Where our friend lies bleeding through his jacket and his tie

A slit throat makes a note like a raw winter wind

We were piled at the river with the rock and roll skinned

Times ten

Like the water loves lapping at the skin of the shore

Hear our friend come tapping at the latches on the door

Like a foot slips, slapping on the ladder’s last rung

We were thrashing in the clatter of the rock and roll hung

Minus one

It’s just a loud crowd crush

It’s just a thrush, seen flying through the late autumn dusk

Just for the very last time

It’s just a busted-up body in the dust of the last road

Out of the city, when the city explodes

Light grows, and the light grows bright, and red-tinged

We were fallen on the border with the rock and roll singed

Times ten

Times ten

Times ten

Ten again, then another ten million

Fallen in the valley of the rock and roll dead

Times ten

Ten again, then another ten million

Fallen in the valley of the rock and roll dead

Times ten

Ten again, then another ten million

Fallen in the valley of the R&B dead

Times ten

Ten again, then another ten million

Fallen in the valley of the rock and roll dead

Times ten

Ten again, then another ten million

Fallen in the valley of the rock and roll dead