Dumptruck — Blind Melon

New York City soothing my itchy itchy month of May Time has passed for Ms. Onassis, decay on display

I don't want to go down I don't want to go down I don't want to go down - like she did

And I can't understand why something good's got to die before we miss it

Mumbled talk through pigeon park And Hastings is wasting away religiously they seem to sin Buy, sell or trade for amens

I just don't want to feel I just don't want to feel I just don't want to feel - like they feel

Hollow body for sound, trade a coat for a gown

Way up in my arms you know I love you just a little bit more

Raisin' nose down to chin Smoke after smoke they all trickle in Anything, for anything, and ending up with nothing

Simple pimpled young man Sores all over his hands He's sleeping, not so silently

I'll mop the floors for you all I'm a fly on the wall Really big and listening

Burned a hand of a friend of mine And Bub I know that you could fly a mile high You told me nothing's ever gonna come between Nothing's ever gonna come between Nothing's ever gonna come between

My dumptruck and me