(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