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Track : Stuck

Artist : Giant Sand

Album : Center of the Universe

rock americana 90s Alt-country alternative

Stuck by Giant Sand from album Center of the Universe

Duration : 5 minutes & 53 seconds.

Listener : 2172 peoples.

Played : 5374 times and counting.

The car stopped running in the middle
Of the road. . .
Beyond any phoneline or 911 code
Hopes were dismal we'd ever get towed
And if we slept in that ride we might awake
Upon explode.
It was as dark as night when the sun went
Down, long after we left the last little town.
Not even the endless heat of day
Cared to stick around
It got as cold as it gets here
Then got colder we found.
The linkage must've jammed
'cause now the Chevy won't budge
The kid sleeps on your lap
And won't wake when you nudge
You left a whole world of light behind,
Now you hold a grudge. . .
And as you carry the kid out
You curse the clutch
It'll be a wonder if you both can
Avoid the death of cold
This stuff used to be cake
But now takes its toll
How can you be this unlucky just
To get this unlucky old?
And you wonder what else lives
In this slice of road
And you lie to your hands
You lie to your heart
You lie to your liver
And tell them they will survive.
Ironically, as you lie there by the side of the
Road and can't wait for the sun to come and
Burn off the cold.
When you awake it's still dark,
And the thunder could mean rain
You check the childs breathing
And curse the clutch again.
It seems impossible that no one has passed
Or crashed into your ride
And as the lull of sleep again attacks
The rain finds where you hide.
Somewhere there's a bar filled with the
Careless and content, somewhere folks are
Happy and don't care which way you went,
Somewhere it's even warmer
Than the day you just spent,
And wish them away with deplore and lament.
There's songs that come to mind
When the mud turns blood to ice
A dance that shows itself
When the night becomes so spiced.
A realm you never felt
That steals away the life, out of your heart, out
Of your soul, it takes a slice.
With the dull grey thud of morning
You can't believe you're not dead
The child wakes with a smile
And just wants to be fed
There were no ghosts of th epast
Nor visions of the days ahead
And as you stand to stretch
You flag down a blue flat bed.

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