Clouds break for a moment when you're coming off desolation   And Frisco's your appointment   You're the way you were before   Trying to gaze East with no one to depend on   The blisters on your feet from coming down the mountain      Your friends won't let you down   But friends, they're not the refuge   You're tearing up the town with a hip flask of red wine   Scrawling visions buzzed in that five-and-dime notepad   Saving them just because angels seem so sad      A ticket from the coat-check girl   Her words and flesh, they're laughing   Taking down her number on that lipstick-stained napkin      Sainthood for anyone who knows you lose it to save it   A prayer for everyone who's ever been out on the pavement   Sound inside of me as I'm falling through the cracks   Hard luck and heart attack      Arms around me if I'm going through the ceiling   Service stations of the cross   Yeah, the doctors, they need healing   Things clear for a moment when you're coming off desolation   Between nothing and the atonement   It all bleeds behind your cadence