Visions of Johanna (Live)

Ain't it just like the night to play tricks when you're trying to be so quiet?
 We sit here stranded, though, we're all doing our best to deny it
 And Louise holds a handful of rain, tempting you to defy it
 Lights flicker from the opposite loft
 In this room, the heat pipes just cough
 The country music station plays soft
 While there is none of it, another to turn off
 But, Louise and her lover who's so entwined
 And these visions of Johanna that conquer my mind
 In the empty lots, where the ladies play
 Blindman's bluff with the keychain
 Where the all-night girls whisper of escapades out on the D-train
 You can hear the night watchman click his flashlight
 Ask himself if it's him or them that was really insane
 And Louise, she's alright, she's just near
 She's delicate and seems like the mirror
 But, she just makes it all too concise and too clear
 That Johanna's not here
 The ghost of electricity, howls in the bones of her face
 Where these visions of Johanna have now taken my place
 A little boy lost, he takes himself so seriously
 He brags of his misery, he likes to live dangerously
 And when bringing up her name up
 He speaks of a farewell kiss to me
 Oh, he's sure got a lot of gall
 To be so useless and all
 With his small talk in the wall, while I am in the hall
 How can I explain?
 It's so hard to get on
 Oh, where these visions of Johanna, they kept me up past the dawn
 Inside the museums, Infinity goes up on trial
 Voices echo, "This is what salvation must be like after a while"
 But, Mona Lisa musta had the highway blues
 You can tell by the way she smiles
 See the primitive wallflower freeze
 Where the jelly-faced women all sneeze
 Hear the one with the mustache say, "Jeez, I can't find my knees"
 Jewels and binoculars hang from the head of the mule
 Oh, where these visions of Johanna, are make it all seem so cruel, oh
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 The peddler now speaks
 To the countess who's pretending to care for him
 Sayin', "Name me someone who's not a parasite
 And I'll go out and say a prayer for him"
 But, like Louise always said
 "You can't look at much, can you, man?"
 As she, herself, prepares for him
 And Madonna, she still has not showed
 We see this empty cage, now corrode
 The fiddler, he now steps to the road
 He writes everything's been returned which was owed
 On the back of the fish truck that loads
 While my conscience explodes
 Harmonicas play the skeleton keys and the rain
 Now, these visions of Johanna are now all that remain