And in the morning nothing’s left
If you ever come this way
Don’t believe a word we say
‘Cause we all have stories to tell
Tonight we’re calling a truce for a awhile
While shaking hands is back in style
And if you ever come this way
Watch every single hand you shake
‘Cause we all have bridges to sell
Tonight they’re handing out the blame
Keep my face but lose my name
And if you’re ever in this town
Don’t tell a soul you’ve seen me around
‘Cause we’ve all had stories to tell
I like when I do one of these songs on the quick, and it still sounds like a real song when I’m finished. A weekend of travel and a Monday at work had me feeling like Mount Everest was more of a chore to approach than usual, so I was relieved when I sat down and this song tumbled out in no time flat. I put it to zeros and ones in a single guitar take, and a single vocal take. That was that. As such, I’m not sure exactly what I’ve got, as far as the text of it is concerned.
I’m certainly pondering, in one way or another, the myriad conmen and crooks that are the hallmark of late capitalism. They seem to buzz all around us in the age of Trump. I perceive them everywhere I turn. In a way, we all have to put on costumes just to be functioning adults in the world. I think perhaps this song is merely about the slow death of honesty, if it ever lived to begin with. We barely knew ye.