LOW RENT HORROR. Songtext

Of a closed ninety-nine cent shop.

He showed you in at least a dozen ways

That they don't reward brave displays.

They smile to your face.

They snicker to your back.

Oh, I hate to be the one to tell you.



Have you ever been so lost?

Have you ever really lost your way around a tired town?

Around a tired job?
Around a low-end life?



The ghost of your Christmas past

Has no use for fear

Or regard for the time of year.



I hear it when you dial: a sigh behind your smile.

I read it on your tongue: bitter words for anyone who tries to help.

We wonder why you won't dispense with your carefree words

When they just don't ring true anymore.