Disfigured cowboy   Mirror in pieces   Hold the receiver   Trace the police   station lines   to my number.   Number my reasons   for this paranoia   for these accusations.   My fear of the numbers   paired off like lovers who add together   so I can remember   the name of my nation.      Disfigured cowboy go   back to Alabama.   You’ve gone out of your head.   Get in your battered Mustang.   In the back seat will be your bag.      Disfigured cowboy   Pale denim phantom   If I could just piece together ransom   I would buy back the youth that   clung tight to your temples.   It was chased from his bedroom   It chased from his candles   By fear of the numbers   Paired off like lovers   and add it together   so I can remember   my face of my station.      Disfigured cowboy the   floor just won’t support you.   You fall through the room.   Get in your battered Mustang.   In the back seat will be your tomb.      Well I rode into Buffalo   and I found a motel room   and tried to escape you.   The phone line wouldn’t go through.   I looked in the mirror   and I saw your coward staring out.   I didn’t recognize your eyes, your mouth,   or anything other that concerned me now.   Oh I thought you were my friend   The coward in the mirror   The coward at the bed   Now don’t come any nearer   Oh I thought you were my hero   Now I beg you to go   back into the shadows.   Go back inside my bed.   Pull your features back together   Smash the mirror when you’re dead.