(alexander) 
 
luther's windows are littered with nothing 
a crystal, a picture, a dead potted sage 
a dusty white curtain, the nose prints of a dog 
a shot glass collection from his truck driving days 
 
luther's bedroom is as hot as an oven 
with air that's as stale as old forgotten bread 
in a cage on the dresser there's a parrot that talks 
but her name over and over is all that it says 
 
turn your back to the sun 
you see only shadows 
look beneath the stars 
you see only night 
like a homesick sailor 
luther's standing in the window 
watching the world floating by him tonight 
 
luther's hands once held a chain 
with keys to a home and a blue chevrolet 
now he lives with his mother, steals all her liquor 
and chain smokes and stares at the ceiling for days 
 
turn your back to the sun 
you see only shadows 
look beneath the stars 
you see only night 
like a homesick sailor 
luther's standing in the window 
watching the world floating by him tonight 
 
luther's sitting by himself on the sofa 
with his head bowed down but his eyes are open wide 
having a one man revival with an electronic bible 
listening to the parade going by 
and the bass drum is pounding, the trumpets are bleating 
and he's reading a verse from st. john 
a trickle of light seeps through the blind 
luther pulls down the shade until he makes up his mind 
 
well, turn your back to the sun 
you see only shadows 
look beneath the stars 
you see only night 
like a homesick sailor 
luther's standing in the window 
watching the world floating by him tonight 
it's floating by him tonight