Texty: Gillian Welch. April 14th, Part I.

When the iceberg hit oh, they must have known
God moves on the water like Casey Jones
So I walked downtown on my telephone
And took a lazy turn through the red eye zone

It was a five band bill a two dollar show
I saw the van out in front from Idaho
And the girl passed out in the backseat trash
There was no way they'd make even a half a tank of gas

They looked sick and stoned and strangely dressed
No one showed from the local press
But I watched 'em walk through the bottom land
And I wished I played in a rock 'n' roll band

Hey, hey, it was the 14th day of April

Well, they closed it down with the sails in rags
And the swept up the fags and the local rags
Threw the plastic cups in the plastic bags
And the cooks cleaned the kitchen with the staggers and the jags

Ruination day and the sky was red
I went back to work and back to bed
And the iceberg broke and the Pokies fled
And the Great Emancipator took a bullet in the back of the head