Frontier Ruckus - Pontiac, The Nightbrink lyrics

The nightfall's like a house of mirrors The shuttered deadmall and the Sears Where my mother worked for years In the nineties The d**tore dried out parking lots A fluorescent crest of snow still rots Piling in the handicap spot's Blind-freeze there The touching-towns have special wants M-59 and the salad-bar-restaurants Something in it always taunts my Nostrils When I'm smoking goddamn Pontiac And the hidden end of the Amtrak Woodward and the good word crack and the Exhaust fills the air Where A cul-de-sac Has sweetly softened The coughing memory Dulled and black Far too often Black ice on the greenery And all the women Sap me with their sadness And now I'm sad too But Pontiac's not The heart of darkness But freezing on the brink Where I am at Some fading starkness Where the brains of darkness think The firmly-fixtured-fast-food-beacons Do not dangle, do not weaken Neither does the heart I'm seekin' In you Mary-Lynn you wouldn't know But you do too have holy glow But how am I supposed to show You you? 'Cause your voice through those holy nodes Marked me like the salted roads Chalky white, the night forebodes The coming 'Cause your throat throttled northtown boys From the Rochesters and Troys They will also hear your noise Drumming low The wilderness of floating text The endless half-conscious of present tense winter s** Do you see how it connects In me? Because they touch in such awful blurs Their cough is full with all it remembers Draining the stripmall containers To find me there Where The Silverdome, the Palace The silt-slush road and all its malice Sweet-hearted and waiting for me Your face flushed like a toilet Where I could only soil it To unearth all my worth so futilely St. Joseph is black-ice-gripped And all the mailboxes are very tightlipped With the way they know my name And all the black ice ever gives Twenty swerving adjectives Repeating and cheating in our game In Pontiac the night falls like a whim Looking back, the night just seemed to brim Down the track, dangerous and grim In the black we all look so dim And the night has a yellow-gray-glow It's as though The whole world's my halo The grocery story bright light Aisles of the night Piling the black-white The whole strip-mall plaza Wheezing with asthma On your miasma The night has a yellow-gray-glow It's as though The whole world's my halo