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The Immortals

Paul was a punk rock singer who lived on First Avenue

he started a band with his best friends

and played at the best venues

The years were rolling on by him

he said,

“Its gotta get better than this.

I’m in a very small car heading on a very long road trip.”

Hold on, you are with the blessed

Stay strong, this is what he said,

"I want to be one of the immortals

and I want my words set in stone

I want a great big granite mausoleum

that you can rest your tears on

The truth about poetic injustice

is they don’t give a damn 'til you’re dead

and I want to be one of the immortals

that live inside your head"

Johnny was a country folk rock singer

with the dust of angels in his veins

every night you could hear him begging to Jesus

for his one big break

He lived too west of New York City,

too east of LA

just north of Nashville

and far south of heaven

I know this place ain’t gonna be my deathbed

I’ll sing out and play this old Martin guitar

and I don’t know where the hell I’m going

but I know that it ain’t far

And I want to be one of the immortals

and I want my words set in stone

I want a great big granite mausoleum

that you can rest your tears on

The truth about poetic injustice

is they don’t give a damn ‘til you’re dead

and I want to be one of the immortals

that live inside your head

Motus Music © 1989