Dirty July mornin' clothes
flappin' on the line
Flappin' on the line
Clothes flappin' on the line
Well the cops sent out the warnin'
Phantom One has done his time
One had done his time
Phantom One has done his time
But that don't mean nothin' to me
Could care less if he rots in his cell
Cause I've got a fuse of my own to burn
While I stand in line to take my turn
Waiting for the mail
I was promised a letter
At least a Japanese postcard
A Japanese postcard
Japanese postcard
And after all of these days I can count
all the ways
Ain't seen nothin' like that so far
Nothin' like that so far
Nothin' like that so far
I wonder if she's in trouble what
kind of demons
Are on her tail
But there ain't nothin' I can do to change
The changes she's been through
while I've been
Waiting for the mail
Last night I dreamed
About a motel near the border
A dim light and a twenty dollar room
Sweat poured from my brow
As I lay there frozen
I was wide awake and not a
minute to soon
Well the buzzards fly up to the heavens
Dog sound asleep on the porch
Sound asleep on the porch
Dog sound asleep on the porch
And it's year to the day
Since the fields burned away
But I still carry this torch
I still carry this torch
I still carry this torch
And I'm feelin' a little bit seasick
But I've still got one hand on the rail
And one eye on the road cause that's
Where my future will unfold while
I'm waiting for the mail
