Visions of Johanna

Ain't it just like the night to play tricks

When you're trying to be so quiet?

We sit here stranded though we're all doing our best to deny it

And Louise holds a handful of rain tempting you to defy it

Lights flicker from the opposite loft

In this room the heat pipes just cough

The country music station plays soft

But there's nothing, really nothing to turn off

Just Louise and her lover, so entwined

And these visions of Johanna that conquer my mind

In the empty lot where the ladies play

Blind man's bluff with the key chain

And the all-night girls

They whisper of escapades out on the D-train

We can hear the night-watch man click his flashlight

Ask himself if it's him or them that's insane

Louise, she's alright, she's just near

She's delicate and seems like the mirror

But she just makes it all to concise and too clear

That Johanna's not here

The ghost of electricity howls in the bones of her face

Where these visions of Johanna have now taken my place

And now little boy lost, he takes himself so seriously

He brags of his misery, he likes to live dangerously

And when bringing her name up, he speaks of a farewell kiss to me

He's sure got a lot of gall to be so useless and all

Muttering small talk at the wall while I'm in the hall

Oh, how can I explain, it's so hard to get on?

And these visions of Johanna, they've kept me up past the dawn

Inside the museums infinity goes up on trial

Voices echo, "This is what salvation must be like after a while"

But Mona Lisa must have had the highway blues

You can tell by the way she smiles

See the primitive wallflower freeze

When the jelly-faced women all sneeze

Hear the one with the mustache say

"Jeez, I can't find my knees"

Both jewels and binoculars hang from the head of the mule

But these visions of Johanna, they make it all seem so cruel

The peddler now speaks to the countess

Who's pretending to care for him

Saying, "Name me someone that's not a parasite

And I'll go out and say a prayer for him"

But like Louise always says, "You can't look at much, can you man as she herself prepares for him?"

And Madonna, she still has not showed

We see this empty cage now corrode

Where her cape of the stage once had flowed

The fiddler, he now steps to the road

He writes, "Everything's been returned which was owed"

On the back of the fish truck that loads while my conscience explodes

The harmonicas play the skeleton keys and the rain

And these visions of Johanna are now all that remain