Lyrics Cowboy Junkies – The Truth About Us (The Ballad Of Lee And Marina)

We wanted something more than just an “o.k.” corral,
Take the skeletons from the closet — put ‘em under the floor
Let’s settle up on boot hill, to the view we adore
The truth about us
You can’t exhume by assumption
You have to work hard — have to get on a talk show
Let the host root around
See where it goes
And if that’s too far we’ll bust a chair right over his nose
Take a bite of the Big Apple while the room is for free
Spit the pulp into the Hudson like it was British Tea
Oh, Marina, Marina, it’s cold and it’s lonely
When you’re pointing a gun at the President
I’m no flunky with a rifle, I’m an N.R.A. golden boy
I’m a genius forging a legend
“Where’s the truth about us?”
You came in demanding
Your scarlet face wrung that old southern bell
My Rett Hoover reply left me hard to peg:
“The truth about us I’ve buried deep in Connally’s leg.”
Pry open all the coffins, there’s only one thing inside,
A pink dress and a pill box hat with Camelot tags
Oh, Marina, Marina, it’s cold and it’s lonely
When reporters are carrying your coffin
Oh, please baby please, let coincidence leave me
A martyr to patriotic negligence

“Should old acquaintance be forgot
And never brought to trial…”
Every girl and boy can grow up to be the President
Or grow up to be the President’s killer…
It’s equal opportunity
It’s the land of hope and glory
It’s a cheap Italian mail-order thriller…
The truth about us
Sailed for Manhattan
What was it hoping to find?
Cheers from Ellis Island?
Ha.
We turned them back from the shore
Sent them back out to see
How Promise can grow smaller if two sides agree
We sent them packing off to Auschwitz —
When we heard the reports
We wrote, “How dare you!” with their ashes
As if we couldn’t have known
You see Marina, Marina,
I’ve learned lessons from my country
About national interest and the “Big Picture”
I’m gonna manifest my destiny
Gonna spread the legs of misery
I’ve got my piece in my hand and I’m loaded
The truth about us
Ain’t hard to figure
It’s adding up to one hell of a toll on us
We had been up all night
When the tympani rolled
Faxed-in paper pledges turned to solid gold
Kids pick up your guns from the thug in classroom “D”
There’s people out there whose jobs depend on our misery
That’s the truth about us