Piano Pop, Elliott Smith, Ben Folds
Lyrics:
Aiming the Guns at Fate
Words & Music by Mike Maimone
(c) 2008
Her smile is painted on a teardrop canvas;
she don’t wanna be the reason we’re calling it a night.
But she’s a carnival packed up for the winter.
Yeah, and we can see the frost forming on brightly colored rides.
She don’t talk during their song, no she don’t talk during their song.
These days, nobody seems to talk about him
but in the shade of the old oak tree we ain’t forgotten
So you set the cruise control, I’ll guide the wheel
we’re aiming the guns at fate and we’re dragging him home
We’re dragging him home.
The night is hangin’ on a pindrop moment
while the melody’s taking our memories for a ride.
Last call for alcohol, that’s it tonight
yeah, but we can’t complain – he’s got us feelin’ more alive
We don’t talk during their song, no we don’t talk during their song.
These days, nobody seems to talk about him
but in the shade of the old oak tree we ain’t forgotten
So you set the cruise control, I’ll guide the wheel
we’re aiming the guns at fate and we’re dragging him home
We’re dragging him home.