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"Pete Bastille" Lyrics

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Pete Bastille

It's midnight monday morning and he's digging out his truck
From the late November snowdrift
Where he's found the damn thing stuck again
Manhattan waits 8 hours down the thruway in the dark
He has his shit together it's just his head that's flying apart

Pete Bastille, Pete Bastille
He's a surgeon on a forty story skeleton of steel
Pete Bastille

His mother's mothers planted corn to feed the turtle clan
And his father's fathers fought the French with Col. Joseph Brant
He spends the weekends with his family up on the reserve
Weekdays he works the high steel some say just to prove his nerve

Pete Bastille, Pete Bastille
He's a surgeon on a forty story skeleton of steel
Pete Bastille

In the gaming halls of Hogansburg the tourists place their bets
They buy their beads and bingo cards and tax-free cigarettes
While above some distant city he's out hanging on a limb
An acrobat in a hardhat on a giant jungle gym

Pete Bastille, Pete Bastille
Once he saw the Eiffel Tower and proclaimed it no big deal
Pete Bastille

On the reservation iron crosses mark the graves
Of the warriors who have fallen from the girdered high-rise frames
As he looks down on the skyline of New York or Montreal
He sees the sweat and piss and blood that's built in every curtain wall

Pete Bastille, Pete Bastille
Once he saw the Eiffel Tower and called it no big deal
He's a surgeon on a forty story skeleton of steel
Pete Bastille...
Pete Bastille...
song info:
Verified yes
LanguageEnglish
Rank
Duration00:03:36
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Copyright ©
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Lyrics licensed byLyricFind
AddedNovember 3rd, 2014
Last updatedMarch 7th, 2022
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