The Virgin Mother has many boyfriends
and they all are Gypsies of the Heart,
wandering through no man's land
looking for that band that just has to have them join in.
Satan, in a private moment, shrugged his tired shoulders,
wistfully told the camera, Everyone needs a fall guy.
If they didn't have one, they'd have to go inside
and check themselves.
On a supposed good day,
I look up, see the Virgin Mother and Satan
sharing a drink at the halfway house.
Satan says, don't you ever get tired of all those folks
praying to you. Virgin Mother shrugs her tired
shoulders, wistfully tells the camera, it ain't easy
Curfew is incoming.
Got to find a place to sleep.
The patrols are getting feisty.
They got new laws hanging from tree limbs.
Got to find a band that just has to have us join in.
Maybe we can start up our own band, if nobody else wants us.
Satan is finishing up his memoirs. Lots of vital pages there.
If he only could find a willing publisher.
I could be your momma, too, Virgin Mary says.
She slips Satan a card of a reputable publishing house.
Did you really have a kid without having sex? Satan asks.
I thought you angels knew everything, Virgin Mary answers.
I'm a fallen angel, darling, Satan croons.
I fall to pieces, Virgin Mary grins. They sing Patsy Cline
there together in the halfway house.
We roam up and down the highways of our hearts.
Sometimes, weather permitting,
we set up camp.
listening to Dave Alvin and the Guilty Men, live...