Downtown north past the airport
A dream in switchgrass and concrete
Three gray floors of smoky windows
Michael pulls the blinds back up
Stares blankly down at the intersection
Watching for the guy who's got the angel dust
We cheer for the home team every time
Lakeside View, Lakeside View
Lakeside View for my whole crew
Most nights now sleep in the kitchen
Keep my face cool on the floor
And John, John comes by to drop off his envelopes
Still playing postman after all these years
Pull down my army surplus jacket
Dig through some drawers to find the keys
Under each eye little greasepaint smudge
You can't judge us - you're not the judge
Lakeside View, Lakeside View
Lakeside View for my whole crew
And Ray left a message thumbtacked to the door
I don't even bother trying to read them anymore
Lakeside View Lakeside View,
Lakeside View for my whole crew More from The Mountain Goats