DESCRIPTION:
There's a big fat man on a mechanical bull in slow motion. like Debra Winger
And he gets knocked off and I think hes hurt,
It's a bitch facing facts and figures
There's a band on stage that used to be huge
they're on but no one's listening
They're asked to turn down and they politely oblige
Ain't no such thing as a free ride

It ain't my night and it ain't my town and I ain't being condescending
Its just the opening slot and I hit my mark and leave as the crowd is thinning

The man's on the guest list so I guess it will be alright

Meanwhile, the paramedics arrive and they haul off that Urban Bovine Knievel
I see my friend and give him all my money and tell myself it's a necessary evil
And it's all such a fleeting thing so I guess I best try and enjoy it
All this beauty and just enough time to figure out how to destroy it

I'm just the opening act

And it ain't my crowd and it ain't my night, but Id be lying if I said I can't relate
I'm just the opening act and the van is packed and I'm hauling ass to another state

And I'm driving north as the sun was rising over a Technicolor horizon
I reached out to touch you but you;re not there; you're a thousand miles away from here
And I turned up the radio; heard some preacher talking salvation
The tank is half full and I reached over and changed the station

I'm just the opening act