Idaho (all the diamonds you can eat)

By Nathan Payne | pablosmoglives | 16 Aug 2021


Looking back is rough.  What happened to time?  Where did all those people go?  Why must everyone end up on the bottom of the sea, floating alone through the halls of the Titanic?  Don't tell me it's only natural.  We have a super-nature to which death is anathema.  I refuse to compromise.

Lot's wife turned into a pillar of salt.  To make the wounds unbearably painful, presumably.  How horrible is time.  So much beauty has been lost.  I know why people stay in touch with dead & dying flames.  They want someone to share the memories with.

All my memories are frozen into songs.  There is nobody to share them with.  All those stories, all that experience, shared with one other person I will never see again.  The loss is immeasurably sad. 

I usually fall in love.  What's the point if you don't?  The magic can't be found anywhere else.  That's what all the songs are about.  Any song that isn't a love song is dated on arrival.  All love songs are timeless.  The only songs that speak to multitudes of people are songs that were written for an audience of one. 

The more you touch, the less you feel.

Someday I will tell the story behind this song, about the beautiful girl who inspired it.  It is a wild, untameable love story of which no photographs exist.  There were truckstops and unicorns, giant fishbowl tiki drinks, punk-rock and leopard print, midnight streaking through the park, rockabilly holidays, snowmobile crashes, graveyards, dive bars, alcohol.  We loved each other very much.

 

Idaho (all the diamonds you can eat)

 

I left her back in Idaho

what she’s doin’ I don’t know

whatever it is, you know

she ain’t doin’ it for me

 

I think about her every day

from Chicago to L.A.

thank God that I’m in Phoenix

maybe now I’ll finally get a break

 

no I haven’t lost my mind

I just left most of it behind

and whatever’s missin’

baby I don’t need it anymore

 

I’m so far away from home

under clouds of Styrofoam

everything is made of sugar

but nothing is very sweet

 

and I am not complete

and I have got no time

but as long as I’m here

I think I’ll stay

as long as you’re laughing at me

as long as we’re both having fun

 

love your enemies

baby, drown ‘em in the seven seas

won’t you spend another night with me

down upon the kitchen floor?

 

if I should die before I melt

I’ll see you in the Bible belt

but we both know that it’s what you got

below the belt that counts

 

I wish I had a drink

I wish I had some weed

I wish I had a wife

I wish that I could read

 

take off your advice

baby name your price

laugh at my expense

sit up on my fence

 

you can spend all the money in your mind

on a cheap pair of rhinestone-studded shoes

baby’s got them high-heeled blues

 

lick yourself off the floor

kick yourself out the door

and cash your

very last paycheck in the sky

 

set fire to a swarm of bees

the insults grow on trees

but I’m so close to bliss,

there’s nothing left to understand

 

do you drink every night?

do you steal?

do you fight?

do you feel like a meal?

are you strapped to the wheel?

baby you look so fine

when you look me in the spine

you’re pretty

you’re cool

you’re petty

you’re cruel

and I never felt so clean yes it’s true

as I did when I was rollin’ in the mud with you

baby we got a wheelchair built for two

 

I got a mouthful of mud

and a bottle of Bud

I lost five pints of blood

in a game of five card stud

 

and I know you’re having fun

but wake yourself up my son

you know it’s time again

it’s time to feed the pigs

 

I don’t care if you’re the light

I don’t think that you’re so bright

I ain’t never comin’ back

I ain’t never comin’ back

I ain’t never comin’ back

I ain’t never comin’ back

I ain’t never comin’ back

put your money in my sack

all the tricks that you can treat

all the diamonds you can eat

all the drivers in your drunk

all the bottoms in your bunk

all the traps in your trail

all the buckets in your pail

all the stale in your mate

all the clean on your plate

and I’d rather wake up naked

in a bathtub full of snakes

than spend another minute living under

the cloud of your incredibly fascist way of life

 

my food is full of fleas

and I feel so at ease

when you call and when you throw

your broken dishes on the floor

and I feel so good

cuz I know you understood

when you walk away and point your broken finger at me

don’t point your broken finger at me

don’t point your broken finger at me

 

© 2004 Nathan Payne

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Nathan Payne
Nathan Payne

I am a songwriter and bandleader who travels the world in search of the golden ticket. http://www.pablosmoglives.com


pablosmoglives
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