Luther's windows
Are littered with nothing
A crystal, a picture,
A dead potted sage
A dusty white curtain,
The nose prints of a dog
A shot glass collection
From his truck driving days
Luther's bedroom
Is as hot as an oven
With air that's as stale
As old forgotten bread
In a cage on the dresser
There's a parrot that talks
But her name over and over
Is all that it says
Turn your back to the sun
You see only shadows
Look beneath the stars
You see only night
Like a homesick sailor
Luther's standing in the window
Watching the world
Floating by him tonight
Luther's hands
Once held a chain
With keys to a home
And a blue chevrolet
Now he lives with his mother,
Steals all her liquor
And chain smokes and stares
At the ceiling for days
Turn your back to the sun
You see only shadows
Look beneath the stars
You see only night
Like a homesick sailor
Luther's standing in the window
Watching the world
Floating by him tonight
Luther's sitting
By himself on the sofa
With his head bowed down
But his eyes are open wide
Having a one man revival
With an electronic bible
Listening to the parade going by
And the bass drum is pounding,
The trumpets are bleating
And he's reading
A verse from St. John
A trickle of light
Seeps through the blind
Luther pulls down the shade
Until he makes up his mind
Well, turn your back to the sun
You see only shadows
Look beneath the stars
You see only night
Like a homesick sailor
Luther's standing in the window
Watching the world
Floating by him tonight
It's floating by him tonight
Writer(s): Paul Smith, George Alexander, Jeff Feltenberger, Ron Simasek, Pete Pallindino
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