First Few Desperate Hours

Bad luck comes in from Tampa Bad luck comes in from Tampa On the back of a truck Doing ninety up the interstate We have bad dreams the night he rolls in We have bad dreams the night he rolls in And we try to keep our sprits high But they flag and they wane When the truck pulls up out front In the light spring rain And they sag like withering flowers Let the good times roll on Through these first few desperate hours Yeah the driver drops his cargo at the curb The driver drops his cargo at the curb And the sun peeks in Like a killer through the curtain And when cloven hoof prints turn up in the garden Yeah when cloven hoof prints turn up in the garden We keep up the good fight We keep our spirits light But they draw like flies And there's a stomach-churning shift In the way the land lies And they lean like towers On a hillside struggling to stand Through these first few desperate hours Yeah --- First Few Desperate Hours - The Mountain Goats