Postcard - Uncle Tupelo

Lost sight of ground, never been so down

Nothing here to stand on

It’s a war-weary road another faceless tombstone

Nothing here to stand on

Turn to face the wind may never get out

Forever caught in a spin, no better place to begin

Can’t find the phone, can’t hear to listen

Can’t take along what we’re missing

Just as well to write this postcard from Helland

The bar clock says three a.

m

Fallout shelter sign above the door

In other words, don’t come here anymore

Too many miles between I heard a dead man scream

Nothing here to stand on

Each and every step reeling out more or less

Nothing here to stand on

I turn to face the wind may never get out

Forever caught in a spin no better place to begin

I turn to face the wind may never get out

Forever caught in a spin no better place to begin

Tried to stay, tried to run

There’s never been enough reason to believe in anyone

This trickle-down theory has left all these pockets empty

And the bar clock says three a.m.

Fallout shelter sign above the door

In other words, don’t come here anymore