The White Stripes 300 M.P.H. Torrential Outpour Blues

I'm bringing back ghosts
That are no longer there.
I'm gettin' hard on myself
Sittin' in my easy chair.
Well, there's three people in my mirror
And I'm wonderin' which one of them I should choose.
Well, I can't keep from laughin'
Spittin' out these three hundred mile per hour outpour blues.

I'm breakin' my teeth off
Tryin' to bite my lip.
There's all kinds of red-headed women
That I ain't supposed to kiss.
And it's that color which never fails
To turn me blue.
So I just swallow it and hold on to it
And use it to scare the hell out of you.

I have a woman
Says come and watch me bleed.
And I'm wonderin' just how I can do that
And still give her everything that she needs.
Well, there's three people in my head that have the answer
and one of them's got to be you.
But you're holding tight to it--the answer
Singin' these three hundred mile per hour outpour blues.

Put on gloves, a tied scarf and wrap up warm
On this winter night.
Every time you get defensive
You're just looking for a fight.
It's safe to say somebody out there's got a problem
With almost anything you'll do.
Well, next time they stab you, don't fight back
Just play the victim instead of playin' the fool.

And the roads are covered with a million ittle molecules
Of cigarette ashes and the school floors are covered
With pieces of pencil eraser too.
Well sooner or later the ground's gonna be holdin' all
Of my ashes too.
But I can't help but wonder if after I'm gone
Will I still have these three hundred mile per hour, finger breaking,
No answers, broken back, dirty cancer,
Bee stung and busted up, empty cup
Torrential outpour blues

One thing's for sure in that graveyard:
I'm gonna have the shiniest pair of shoes.