My criminal uncle crashes the garden party on a four-day drunk Clears the nephews, he clears the cousins, and he He's got visions, he's grabbing for lifelines Livid and lunatic with laughing gas He parked his grandmother's pickup truck lengthwise Loaded with a half-cord of wood But it's too late for him It's too late for me It's too late for us We've run out of things to be. My criminal uncle lived in a cabin on a mountain notch road Hunting license and a buck strung up by the heels in the yard He's got a gripe with his neighbor, a bad knee to favor Bass amp, he's a backroom bard My criminal uncle smashed his car on a six-week bender Flecks of white paint, dried animal on the right rear fender Don't you remember? He says, "Why have you forsaken me? Ask anyone I know, isn't this what a man's supposed to be?" I got fooled by philosophers He was led astray by country songs He's loopy and lonely, driving circles 'round his front yard Cork and bottle, cock and bull Hook and bullet business meetings Downstairs rumble, rattle and roll Upstairs greetings It's too late for him It's too late for me It's too late for us We've run out of things to be It's too late for us I don't know where we are Spinning across the heavens Drowning like some falling star.