Woe, The Tragically Hip Be Upon Ye

Eating with my fingers and sucking hulls of ships

If you’re painted by radar, gentlemen / There’ll be no further use of the two way radio

It’s not like we were best friends

Bring me back in shackles / Hang me long out in the sun

Fireworks exploding in the distance / Temporary towers soar

I know a lack you’ve got and it makes a strong case for art

Where’s our pigeon camera / By now he could be anywhere

His tiny knotted heart / Well, I guess it never worked too good

Out over the rim / Is ice cream to him

Rolling hills all covered in suede

In the middle of that riot / couldn’t get you off my mind

A thief blinded on the job has to steal for life

To bring back the day’s events / Good citizens and time well spent

I think to myself “I don’t really know my heart” / As you whisper “me too”

What’s troubling Gus? You sound demented / Is it because someone talked and she told me?

If I’m not in the saddle I’m nothing, that’s right

You were loosening my grip on Bobby Orr