Poor Places is a strange song. Basically, on the demos for YHF, the song had twice as many lyrics. Somewhere between the demo and the actual CD, Wilco decided to cut out the end of every line. The complete lyrics tell much more, I'll write some one.
It's my father's voice trailing off sailors sailing off in the morning to fight the war,
For the air conditioned room at the top of the stairs, at the head of the table... there's a face on every smile
and it makes no difference to me, how they cried all over overseas,
cause its hot in the poor places tonight
I'm not going goin outside.
There's bourbon on the breath of the singer you love so much, he doesn't care
If he takes all his words from the books that you don't read anyway
It makes more sense this way, but is missing the absolute glory of this song--the slow buildup and climax, the degrade into noises and fuzz.
The original version is also very piano-driven and upbeat. I'm glad they changed it.
Poor Places is a strange song. Basically, on the demos for YHF, the song had twice as many lyrics. Somewhere between the demo and the actual CD, Wilco decided to cut out the end of every line. The complete lyrics tell much more, I'll write some one.
It's my father's voice trailing off sailors sailing off in the morning to fight the war, For the air conditioned room at the top of the stairs, at the head of the table... there's a face on every smile and it makes no difference to me, how they cried all over overseas, cause its hot in the poor places tonight I'm not going goin outside.
There's bourbon on the breath of the singer you love so much, he doesn't care If he takes all his words from the books that you don't read anyway
It makes more sense this way, but is missing the absolute glory of this song--the slow buildup and climax, the degrade into noises and fuzz.
The original version is also very piano-driven and upbeat. I'm glad they changed it.