Lyrics Young Riddick Bowe - Mark Kozelek
Eating
a
po
boy
and
Mother′s
next
to
a
photo
of
a
young
Riddick
Bowe
How
can
you
look
at
a
young
Riddick
Bowe
Without
looking
deep
down
into
your
soul
I
always
take
the
table
next
to
the
photo
of
a
young
Riddick
Bowe
If
the
table
at
Mother's
is
available
I
think
about
him
digging
deep
against
Evander
Holyfield
And
how
he
only
came
home
with
a
silver
at
the
Olympics
When
he
was
going
for
the
gold
And
the
low
blows
he
took
from
Golota
that
retired
him
I
picture
him
in
a
hospital
bed,
laying
there,
healing
up
Then
I
drifted
off
to
other
thoughts,
walking
down
North
to
South
Peters
You
know,
under
the
freeway,
in
the
gentrified
Arts
District
Yeah,
down
South
Peters,
I
cross
over
to
Constance
And
take
a
right
on
Race
and
sit
at
the
cafe
all
alone
Checking
my
phone,
checking
in
on
my
sister
Or
texting
someone
or
another
I
only
got
a
few
friends,
plus
my
father
and
my
mother
So
if
you
see
me
sitting
there
alone
and
you
recognize
me
It′s
not
a
bother
to
say
"hi"
But
please,
for
no
longer
than
five
minutes,
please
no
longer
'Cause
deep
down,
I'm
listening
to
myself,
street
roamer
It
ain′t
nothing
personal,
at
heart
I′m
just
a
loner
'Cause
I′m
always
hurting
a
little
and
doing
some
soul
searching
If
you're
ain′t
hurting
a
little
bit
Then
you're
probably
ain′t
doing
much
soul
searching
If
everything
in
your
life
is
okay,
then
thank
you
for
sharing
But
for
me
it's
not
exactly
that
way
If
you're
jumping
up
and
down
with
how
okay
you
are
I
don′t
buy
it
for
a
second,
the
world
is
just
too
fucked
up
And
I′m
too
fucking
smart
for
you
I
know
better,
I
know
better,
I
know
better,
I
know
better
You
show
me
a
big
tough
guy
and
I'll
show
you
a
little
bedwetter
I′m
watching
American
Bigfoot,
it
takes
place
in
southeast
Ohio
It
was
funny
for
30
minutes,
then
you
called
me
You
said
it's
raining
back
in
San
Francisco
I
said:
It′s
raining
down
here
in
New
Orleans
too,
you
know
I
looked
outside
and
yeah,
it's
raining,
the
tourists
have
left
So
I
make
a
reservation
at
Delmonico
Honestly,
there
are
moments
when
I′m
totally
at
peace
Like
right
now,
when
I'm
walking
down
the
street
I
just
tune
out
all
the
bitches
and
the
headaches
that
be
pestering
me
And
now
I'm
walking
down
Magazine
down
to
Constantinople
Looking
for
John
Kennedy
Toole′s
house
I′m
gonna
take
me
a
photo
of
his
house
That's
gonna
be
my
project
for
the
day
And
send
the
photo
to
my
friend
who
loves
his
book
It′s
good
to
have
a
hope
for
the
day,
even
in
the
simplest
way
A
lamp
broke
this
morning,
yeah,
my
lamp
is
shattered
They
were
coming
to
inspect
my
windows
When
I
wasn't
expecting
them
and
they
caught
me
off
guard
I
reached
for
my
lamp,
the
most
beautiful
lamp
I
ever
had
I
misgauged
the
distance
and
my
hardwood
floor
Was
covered
in
lampshade
glass
and
it
made
me
so
sad
And
I
thought
of
all
the
songs
I′d
written
Under
the
light
of
that
art
deco
lamp
And
all
the
books
I've
read
Under
the
light
of
that
beautiful
art
deco
lamp
And
all
the
love
I′ve
made
Under
the
light
of
the
art
deco
lamp
Shattered
because
they
came
to
inspect
my
windows
That
it
turns
out
had
already
been
inspected
Young,
Young
Riddick
Bowe
Young
Riddick
Bowe
Young
Riddick
Bowe
Young
Riddick
Bowe
Young
Riddick
Bowe
Young
Riddick
Bowe
Young
Riddick
Bowe
And
what
can
you
do
Lamps
break
and
I
bitched
about
it
long
enough
I
called
my
sister
and
my
girl
and
they
reminded
me
How
people
lose
their
entire
homes
in
fires
and
floods
They
were
right,
it
was
a
petty
thing
to
complain
about
In
the
grand
scheme
of
things
But
it
was
the
first
possession
I
ever
put
in
my
house
in
New
Orleans
I
remember
when
it
was
just
that
lamp
and
a
mattress
on
the
floor
And
you
and
me
and
I
get
stuck
in
the
mud
And
get
overly
sentimental
and
feeling
down
about
things
My
girlfriend
said:
You
need
to
get
out
of
bed
today
and
make
some
kind
of
goal
And
I
said:
Okay,
and
I
ate
a
grilled
shrimp
po
boy
That
was
next
to
the
photo
of
young
Riddick
Bowe
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