Gold Mine Gutted

It was Don Delillo, whiskey neat And a blinking midnight clock Speakers on a TV stand Just a turntable to watch Only smoke came out our mouths On all those hooded sweatshirt walks We were a stroke of luck We were a gold mine that gutted us And from the sidelines you'd see me run Until I'm out of breath Living the good life, I left for dead The sorrowful Midwest Well I did my best To keep my head It was gra*s stain jeans and incompletes And a girl from cla*s to touch But you think about yourself too much And you ruin who you love Well all these claims at consciousness My stray dog freedom Let's have a nice clean cut Like a bag we buy and divvy up And from the sidelines I see you run Until you're out of breath And all those white lines that spread us up We hurried to our death Well I lagged behind So you got ahead