Parcel Of Doom

Lyrics: Robert Hunter
Music: Robert Hunter

You had a house with forty-nine rooms
A cellar of wine and a parcel of doom
A gate at the door with a chain and a lock
A book of the hours and a grandmother clock
You had nearly everything you could desire
a lover, a lantern, a bath and a fire
You tried to shake the hand in your sleeve
But the more you see the less you believe

Joanne ... whoo-whoo, Joanne

Let's get away from here, Joanne
It's just another bird in the hand
A fourteen-karat place to die
You don't like it - neither do I

You fought for the right to be wretched as sin
To carve the Lord's Prayer on the head of a pin
To answer all questions with: What does it prove?
To pass up your chance without making your move
you fought for the right to be misunderstood
To squander your talent and come to no good
To be mentally crazy, retarded and sick
Your wounds are your own, no one else's to lick

Joanne ... whoo-whoo, Joanne

With all of these things that welled up inside
What's left of your conscience crumpled and died
Inviting us in with a wave of your hand
we raided your kitchen - me and Joanne

We licked your plates, looked over your home
Took a sheet of your tissues to play on your comb
A tune that was popular long ago
I remember it well - the name I don't know

I snatched up your parcel of doom from Joanne
Who attempted to leave it behind in a can
I said: Are you crazy? Without this we're lost
She stammered and stuttered: But look at the cost

There's one thing I cling to, intending to keep
The rest is like music you hear in your sleep
A parcel of doom is worth two in the clutch
Or ten in the future, which isn't worth much
As for the present, this point that exists,
Just guess at the reason I'm telling you this
I fought for the right to have nothing to say
Now me and Joanne must be on our way

Joanne ... whoo-whoo, Joanne