Shelley Duvall from Catholic Guilt by Rory Strong

Phone call from the gas station
I got my car turned around in a government office.
Followed the headlights, missed my exit, missed the next one.
I wasn’t paying much attention to be honest.

I drove my car at a wall.
You returned my call.
I was screaming bloody murder
just like Shelley Duvall.

I had a box of our stuff
packed in the trunk.
Not much, just some shoes
and a picture of us.
Don’t know what I’d say if anyone should stop by.

It’s a drive I’ve made a hundred times before.
It’s a drive I might never make again.
And all the signs bleed into the colors of the forest.
And the lines on the highway begin to bend.

It’s getting late,
yeah it’s a quarter past two.
I start to think maybe I’ve bit off more than I can chew.
And it’s Halloween, so if I get home by three
I’ll be walking ‘round town just like Jamie Lee,
wondering where all my friends have gone.

And it’s true there’s been some sideways rain here.
It’s true that there’s been this ringing in my ears.
It’s true there’s been monsters standing way too near.

So it’s the end of the line,
yeah it’s the end of my turn.
I’m gonna make it out of here
just like Marilyn Burns
with the blood dripping down my face.

Because if that’s what it takes, then that’s what it takes.
I put the car into gear and I ease off the brakes.
If that’s what it takes, that's what it takes.
If that’s what it takes, that's what it takes.

• Folk
• folk
• folk punk
• indie
• long beach
• singer-songwriter
• Long Beach