Grant Lee Buffalo The Shinig Hour Lyrics

The Shinig Hour Lyrics

Are we still on the 'phone 

 With the Lady Anna Clarke 

 And her trumpet solo 

 Whose ghost sings for pay 

 In the blue billiard room of the Monterey 

 For room and for board 

 And the backdoor key is a 

 19th Century civil war sword 

 Once owned by John Booth 

 Who misplaced his script 

 When he caught his leather boot 

 And this could be the shining hour 

 Based on all this mad belief 

 In the money oil and angel powder 

 In the new age magazine 

 There's a hole in the wall 

 Behind the photograph of Al Capone 

 He's a sittin' down at city hall 

 The police they peek thru here 

 And they watch you get dressed 

 In the two-way mirror 

 But it's all in good spirits 

 And if you close your eyes 

 You can't help 

 Help 

 But to hear 'em move 

 And this could be the shining hour 

 Based on all this mad belief  

 In the money oil and angel powder 

 In the new age magazine 

 I propose a toast 

 To the memory of the horse 

 who carried King Tut 

 And his gold 

 Into the sun 

 He collapsed last summer 

 From the heat stroke 

 Somewhere in the East Village 

 Oh it kills me to think 

 That I'm no longer living 

 Just looking for excuses to drink 

 So lift up your glass 

 And you Ouija board 

 'Cause I'm fading, fading 

 Fading fast 

 And this could be the shining hour 

 Based on all those mad beliefs 

 In the money oil and angel powder 

 In the new age magazine