Black Penny - © 2013, Scott Hrabko

A dirty old band in a half-asleep van
We may be coming to your town
Three chords away from the devil’s hand
Dig that desperate sound

A network of well-worn welcomes
And local indelicacies
Waking up sore on a living room floor
There ain’t nothing like a friend in need

Pursued by the blues and skeleton crews
Through the lowlands of my soul
Stems and seeds of the ‘70s
Through the static on the radio

Continuous soft rock favorites
In busted industrial towns
The smell of pot in the parking lot
Somehow it only brings me down

Living fast in Dallas, Texas
Dying slow in Chicago
I get my hopes up high, then out go the lights
And where I lost my way, I’ll never know

Blue eyes crying in the liquor light glow
Down where the spirits dwell
Deep in the ground you can hear the sound
Of every amateur musician in....

Well, a glue factory
Full of thoroughbred dreams
That missed the starting gun
You wanted to believe it wasn’t over, baby
So you got another pony to run

I lay down in Louisiana, I wake up in misery
My self-control is at an all-time low
Black Penny just keeps rolling home to me

I’ve been down a blind alley
I’ve been down that rabbit hole
Through the briars and the brambles
I’ve rambled
Where a drunkard wouldn’t go
And where I lost my way, I’ll never know
Where I lost my way, I'll never know